


Top Shelf

by missflack



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-29
Updated: 2016-02-03
Packaged: 2018-05-10 03:48:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 26,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5569822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missflack/pseuds/missflack
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He didn’t know when he’d made the decision to go to Tesco and get some wine but, as if his feet had minds of their own, that’s exactly where he found himself an hour later. Given that nothing was going right today, he really shouldn’t have been all that surprised to find his favourite bottle on the top shelf, pushed a bit back just so the tip of his fingers could just brush it, but not close enough for him to actually grab it, even standing on his tiptoes. Growing even more upset, he lowered his head and ran the heels of his hands over his eyes, trying to fight the urge to cry.</p><p>          He was trying to decide whether to get a different bottle, get some beer or just fuck it all up and get some vodka instead when he felt someone behind him. He was about to move aside when a gentle hand touched his elbow and the person said something he couldn’t quite get. </p><p>           Or, the one where Louis is small and Harry is just tall enough to help him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I once saw a tumblr post that said 'is there anything Louis Tomlinson can’t do? apart from reach the top shelf at grocery stores' and it got me thinking and this came out.
> 
> I've been working on this for so long and I didn't want to start posting it before I'd finished writing it, but I changed my mind.
> 
> A massive, massive thank you to [Vasi](http://vanillabeanniall.tumblr.com/) for helping me out with everything. You're the best. 
> 
> Hope you guys like it xx

          On Monday, Louis woke up late and didn’t have time to shower. He also ran out of milk so he couldn’t really enjoy his half-assed attempt at tea. In his haste to leave, he ended up forgetting his beanie and scarf and when he reached the bus stop, he realised he had no time to go back and pick them up before the next bus came.

          By the time he got to the station, which was temporarily closed due to overcrowding on the platform, he was sure the tips of his ears were frozen. The train was, as usual, packed and the man standing beside him apparently couldn’t have waited until he got out of the train to read his newspaper, so Louis had to spend the whole train ride batting it away from his face. So, yeah, you could say Louis was not having a good day so far and it wasn’t even 8 a.m. yet.

          As soon as he got to work his boss made it clear she was not happy about him being late, even if it wasn’t even ten minutes, and wouldn’t hear it when he tried to explain the tube situation. When noon came around, he’d had about thirteen rude customers (not that he’s counting) ringing in to complain about something he could do nothing to fix and honestly just didn’t care about and his head was about to explode. He really needed to get a new job.  

          When he first landed the job, it was supposed to be temporary. He was only working there for a couple of months until uni started so that he didn’t need to have his mother paying all his bills. She had enough on her plate as it was, having seven kids to take care of was no easy task. He stayed behind to help her out when Ernie and Doris were born, delaying his uni plans, but after almost two years, his mum sat him down and through tears said she felt like she was holding him back, she had Dan to help out now and she couldn’t stand being the reason he was not "living his life" as she’d put it. So after long talks and long nights spent awake, he decided to apply for a couple different universities and, depending on the outcome, he’d decide what to do. When the great results came, they were taken excitedly by the whole family, but the same could not be said about his moving out. After endless promises of frequent visits and more tears than he’d ever experienced – that was saying something, as he had taken care of all of them as babies – he was off to the city, off to live his new, grown up life.

          Within a month he had moved to London and had gotten himself a job. He was a Customer Service Representative for a company that apparently had a lot of problems. _A lot_. It was not ideal, but it was temporary, so no real harm could be done, right? Wrong. Two years later, there he was, working in the same boring cubicle, with the same boring people and the pay wasn’t even that great, so he still depended on his mum to pay some of the uni fees, which she did without complaints, but he still felt shit about it.

          When he left for lunch, alone as usual, it was snowing and the deli next door was closed for the holidays so he had to walk to the second nearest restaurant, which was not very near at all. He’d gotten a soup to try and warm up and, while putting it down, the server managed to spill half of it down his front. Well, he did complain about warming up. By the time he got back, the snow had soaked through his shoes and socks and he couldn’t feel his feet. His head, as well as his day, was showing no signs of getting any better.

          He spent the afternoon trying to cheer himself up, repeating over and over in his head that tomorrow was his birthday and his family would come down to see him so all the pain and annoyance would be forgotten as soon as he had his girls and little boy in his arms.

          This time of year had always been his favourite. He had several memories of him and his mum putting up the Christmas decorations. He liked to think he could still remember how he thought that all the lights and Christmas decorations were for him, but maybe it’s just all the times his mum would tell the stories. Like how he once sent a letter to Father Christmas asking him to come to his birthday party. He couldn’t believe when he actually showed up and spent almost an hour crying because Santa had come to his party. They still had a few videos that showed his grandfather in full costume looking confused and holding a weeping six year old Louis in his arms.

          He also liked to think he could remember Lottie’s first Christmas, when "he" bought her little Toms so that they could go out in matching outfits. When Fizzy came around, his mum deemed him old enough to take care of the girls while she ran to Tesco to do some last minute Christmas shopping. That was the moment he decided he wanted to work with children. _That_ he could remember perfectly well. He could remember how good it felt to have such responsibilities and how happy he was when his mum came back and told him how proud of him she was taking such good care of his sisters. From then on, babysitting became a regular thing and, unlike most of his friends, he actually enjoyed doing it.

          When the first set of twins were born, Lottie could be easily entertained with a couple of dolls, and maybe she knew that their mum and Louis could use some help after their dad left too. A few years ago, when Jay married Dan and had Ernie and Doris, they were all grown up enough to help her with the chores and by that time, the family was a well-oiled machine.  Even with all the kids demanding care and attention, Jay always made sure that December was Louis’ month and because of that, it never lost its magic.

          This year he hadn’t put the Christmas decorations up yet. It was a household tradition that they’d always put them up together and Louis thought it’d be a good surprise if they got to do it together this year too. He’d put all the boxes down in the living room around a sad looking, naked pine tree. He was sure the girls would be delighted to decorate everything. He’d also bought stockings and written everyone’s names so they could hang them over the fireplace. Not that he had one, but he was sure they’d find somewhere just as fitting for them. Saying that he was excited didn’t even begin to cover it.

          With that in mind, the afternoon went by quicker than the morning had, and even the grumpy customers couldn’t get to him. It didn’t take too long for him to come out of his high, though. As he was about to leave work, he got a call from his mum telling him she and his sisters wouldn’t be able to come down for his birthday because the twins had fallen ill and she couldn’t find someone to take care of them on such short notice and she asked him if they could change their Christmas plans and have it at hers instead. He had no problem driving to Doncaster, that was’t an issue. He just really needed some comfort as soon as possible, and spending his birthday alone was never something to look forward to. Today really wasn’t his day.

          As soon as he left work, he stepped on a particularly slippery patch on the pavement and, before he could prepare himself, he was lying on the ground, his head pounding harder than it had all day and stars dancing on his vision. People were stepping aside as not to walk over him, but no one offering any help. _Fucking London._ When he got to the tube station, his trousers were soaking wet and he couldn’t stop shivering so, yeah, it was safe to say Louis was a little bit upset.

          He didn’t know when he’d made the decision to go to Tesco and get some wine but, as if his feet had minds of their own, that’s exactly where he found himself an hour later. Given that nothing was going right today, he really shouldn’t have been all that surprised to find his favourite bottle on the top shelf, pushed a bit back just so the tip of his fingers could just brush it, but not close enough for him to actually grab it, even standing on his tiptoes. Growing even more upset, he lowered his head and ran the heels of his hands over his eyes, trying to fight the urge to cry. He was almost twenty three, for fuck’s sake, he shouldn’t be crying in the middle of Tesco, but, really, what had he done to deserve such a bad day? Maybe he should go to Disneyland and apply to work as Dopey. His height would work just right. Or maybe Grumpy. Yeah, Grumpy would probably fit him better, and it was already a huge improvement from his current job.

          He was trying to decide whether to get a different bottle, get some beer or just fuck it all up and get some vodka instead when he felt someone behind him. He was about to move aside when a gentle hand touched his elbow and the person said something he couldn’t quite get. Turning around, he saw a man, well, boy really, probably younger than he was, holding out the bottle he was trying to grab just a few seconds ago and looking at Louis in a questioning way.

          "I’m sorry, I was- I, um- what did you say? The boy had green eyes and they were not distracting. They were definitely not. Not at all, nope.

          He was tall, almost freakishly so. He had a head full of curls that were tamed down with a lilac headscarf and Louis noticed that it was the only bright colour on his outfit. A dark grey pea coat and black, incredibly tight, skinny jeans made the light purple pop out in an almost weird way, looking out of place. Louis was examining it trying to decide whether he liked it or not, when he realised the guy was talking again.

          "I only asked if this was the one. I saw you reaching for it, but wasn’t sure if this was the right bottle," He said, shaking it a little bit as if he was making sure Louis saw it.

          "Yeah, that’s the one. Thank you," he reached for it, looking curiously at the boy and wondering why he was helping him. It seemed to be a let’s-all-make-Louis’-day-shitty day so far.

          "Right then, no problem! I’m gonna-" he said pointing behind him with his thumb and already turning away.  

          "Wait!" Louis almost yelled, "Can you get another one for me? Don’t think I’ll be able to reach the other one either," He added, shrugging sheepishly once the boy was facing him again, an eyebrow raised in question.

          "Big party, huh? Or is it a fancy dinner?" he asked while reaching up for the other bottle, a sly smirk playing on his lips. Louis couldn’t help but notice that his entire feet were touching the ground at all times, but with legs that long, it really shouldn’t be all that surprising that he wouldn’t need to stretch much. Nice, long legs. He had asked something, right?

          "Oh, um- no, just me really," He replied, shaking his head to clear it and realising it probably did look like a bit too much for a single person to drink, but, if the curly haired boy thought so, he didn’t mention it.

          "Here you go," He said, offering Louis the second bottle. "Anything else I can do for you?" he asked, and, well, if Louis were to be completely honest, he could probably come up with a few things. A few inappropriate things he should not be thinking about a random guy at Tesco. Was he that desperate, really?

          "No, that’s okay. Thank you," He replied and, with a dimpled smile and a little bow, the boy picked up his own basket and was on his way.

          By the time he left the store, the boy had already left his mind and he was feeling quite frustrated again. His card had been denied and he had to count down to the last penny to pay for his shopping. Once he left Tesco, the bus was nearing the stop and he had to run to catch it, which was not an easy task with bags dangling from his hands and two bottles of wine madly clinking inside them. When he got there, the driver had already closed the doors and was ready to move, but with a huff and roll of his eyes, he reopened the doors and let Louis in. With a breathless ‘thank you’, he touched his oyster card and went up the stairs.

          It was almost empty, save from a couple and a guy he quickly recognized to be the one who helped him get the wine. He was sat all the way in the back looking out of the window. Louis wondered for a second if he should join him or maybe just acknowledge his presence, but decided it would be too weird. He was just about to turn around and sit by the front window when, as if feeling Louis’ stare, the guy looked up. His face lit up with recognition and a smile and he gave Louis a little wave before pointing to the sit next to his with a questioning look and a shrug of his shoulders. Well, there was no escaping it now, was there?

          "Well, if it’s not the wine grabbing giant," He said after stumbling down the narrow corridor and gracelessly slouching down on the empty seat.

          "I usually go by Harry, you know, but whatever gets you through the night, is alright," He replied with a dimpled smile.

          "Did you just- actually, no. I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that," He said and the Harry guy actually looked embarrassed for a second, before he decided it was best to just move on.

          "Should I call you the ‘two bottles of wine for myself’ guy or do you have a proper name?"

          My friends call me Louis, but suit yourself," He said nonchalantly and Harry’s chuckle made Louis begin to feel a little more relaxed, a small smile tugging his own lips.

          The twenty minutes ride went by too quickly and, before he knew it, his stop was next. He had somehow managed to engage in conversation with Harry and he was telling a story about his roommates and a failed attempt at a surprise birthday cake that was apparently not baking and had stayed in the oven for three hours before they asked for Harry’s help ("they should’ve done it earlier, you know, I _am_ a baker,") and he had found the oven off. He was talking so excitedly that Louis was contemplating just going on and getting the bus back at some point, when Harry looked outside and disappointment washed over his face.

          "I should start heading down. I’m off at the next stop," He said looking at Louis apologetically. Before Louis could even move, he was already standing up and pushing the button over Louis’ head, making him take notice of his long arms and big, _big_ hands.

          "Me too?" he told Harry in a surprised tone.

          "Are you asking me?" he questioned, amusement clear in his voice.

          "No? No! Me too!" he said forcefully and stood up, "It _is_ my stop. I always get off on the next stop. It is the closest to my house," He rambled on while making his way down the corridor.

          "Oh, really? Here was I thinking you were going home with me," Harry said, right behind him. "I did think it was a bit too soon, I mean, I don’t even know your middle name yet," and Louis found himself saying "William," before he could really think about it. "Oh, well, I guess it’s not too soon then," He continued, with a wink and a cheeky smirk, making Louis blush. Was he flirting? With Louis? He was, right?

          They went down the stairs in silence and he was getting to the door when the bus, going particularly fast, went over a bump and made Louis lose his balance, but Harry’s hands were on his waist steadying him in no time.

          "Your trousers are soaking wet," he stated, his hands moving up to Louis’ back, "and so is your coat. Why are they wet?"

          "I- um- I might have slipped on my way to the tube earlier tonight? There was snow, and you know…" he answered with a shrug, he had forgotten about it honestly. The chill had been there for so long that he had almost gotten used to it.

          And just like that, Harry was taking his own jacket off, taking Louis’ bags from him and telling him to put his dry one on. Louis wanted to say it was’t at all necessary because it really wasn’t, but the look on Harry’s face made him take it and if he was honest, it felt good to have someone worrying about him. With a shy ‘thank you’ he put it on and warmth seeped through him, making him shiver with pleasure.  

          As soon as they were off the bus there was an awkward pause and after a lot of pointing around and unfinished ‘where are you-’s and ’this way, that way’s, they realised they were both going in the same direction and there was an ever longer pause while they just stood there still not sure of what to do before Harry visibly shivered from the cold and they actually started walking, Harry still carrying Louis’ bags, but neither of them seemed to notice.

          As they started walking, Louis noticed a white stripe that marked Harry’s also black tshirt. He noticed that white was dusting his whole front, going down to his thigh.

          "Oh, it’s flour. From the bakery, you know?" Harry explained once he noticed Louis staring curiously at his middle.

          The short walk was even shorter than it usually was, with a cute and funny boy by his side, and Louis was saying goodbye to Harry sooner than he’d like to. He wondered whether he should invite him in. He didn’t fancy being alone, but it would probably be too weird, right? Right, they didn’t even know each other. So he grabbed his bags and, after profusely apologising for making Harry carry them, went inside, only looking back once to find Harry on the same spot, still watching him with a small smile playing on his face. A smile that probably matched the one on Louis’ face.

          He dropped the bags on the kitchen counter and went straight to the shower, the warm water soothing his still slightly tense muscles as well as his headache. He left the mess of wet clothes on the floor, deciding that was a problem for tomorrow. Now he only wanted to put on some comfy pyjamas, drink some wine and maybe order some pizza while watching crappy telly.

          It was only when he was opening his first bottle that it came to him. He never asked for Harry’s number or even where he lived. No email address, Instagram or even a twitter handle. He knew his name was Harry and that he was a baker. But with all the bakeries in London, it would be impossible to find him with just that. He knew he shared a house with two other boys and it was close by, but it wasn’t like Louis could go from door to door asking if Harry lived there. His life was not _Love Actually_. He didn’t even get a last name to stalk him on Facebook. He had no way to contact the other boy. And just like that all the gloom of the day came rushing back. Where was Zayn when he needed a shoulder to cry on?

          It only took him a minute longer to feel lighter though. Draped around one of the stools was the coat Harry had lent him. Louis was pretty sure Harry also had his wet coat and he’d pretty much wanted it back. So they still had each other’s jackets and Harry knew where _he_ lived, so if he wanted his back, he’d have to come and get it. And if Louis really hoped he would, no one had to know.

          An entire bottle of wine later, he was lying on the couch, wearing his comfiest pyjamas with Harry’s coat over it. Lottie was on the phone and he was telling her all about it. All about _him._

          "Yeah, Lou, I get it. The jacket smells like him and he smells good. You’ve already said that about thirteen times. But the question is: what are you going to do about it?"

          "Well, I don’t know. There isn’t much I can do, is there? I don’t have enough info to stalk him and find out more. Do you know how many Harrys there are on Facebook? It’s ridiculous!" he complained, eyeing the still opened facebook tab on his computer, "Now I can only wait and see if _he_ is going to do something about it. I hope he does. I really want to see him again. Did I tell you he had dimples? More like proper craters actually. Probably as deep as the moon’s..." Louis started thinking about those  frankly miraculous dimples, which led to him thinking about his sunny smile and his mouth in general and all the wonderful things he probably could do with it when a noise on the other side of the call brought him back to reality. "Right, what was I saying? Oh, yeah, the jacket. He’ll probably want it back. It’s a nice jacket, you know? It smells good. Smells like him, I think. Like freshly baked cookies and vanilla. I really like it." He had a bit of a déjà vu. Had he said that already? Maybe. "And he was wearing a headscarf. A purple one. Because he had curls and they would probably be all over his face otherwise." Which led him to think about running his finger through that hair, pulling it while Harry was on his knees blowing him and- okay, that was probably not a good thing to think about when he was on the phone with his younger sister.

          Somewhere between hanging up with Lottie and opening the second bottle, he lost the remote. It was probably on the floor, but he couldn’t be bothered to actually move and look for it, so he was stuck with watching some confusing French film on the telly when there was a knock on the door.

          He had half a mind to just stay there, the person would give up soon enough. Maybe it was Zayn coming back, though. Maybe the Domino’s guy had gotten a feeling that Louis needed a pizza that night and had sent one. Or maybe he should just stop drinking and get his arse up and check door. He considered closing the jacket over his pyjamas, but really couldn’t be bothered and, when he opened the door, there was no one there, making any worry pointless. He had taken too long and the person really had given up. He took a step outside to try and see if the person was still around and ended up kicking something heavier and taller than he remembered his doormat being. He stepped back inside and, looking down, he found a cake carrier. Carrying a cake. A yummy looking cake, with something fruity on top and with icing around it. It looked delicious.

          Poking his head out the door, he could see a tall figure walking down the street. It stopped under a lamppost and turned around. In the distance, Louis could only see a hint of dimples, but he could make out the curls falling out of the headscarf perfectly. Harry gave him a little wave and continued down the street. Louis wanted to call him back, but he was too far now and probably wouldn’t hear and his neighbours really wouldn’t appreciate all the yelling. He had the brief thought of running after him and making it a scene for the movies, but, as if they could speak, his legs let him know they were not up for it. But it was okay. If Harry came back once, he was likely to do it twice.  

           He picked up the cake, ready to go back inside, and noticed a sticky note on top of the lid.

           " _Hope you like cake._ " It read, " _you looked like you could use something sweet. Let me know if you like it,_ " followed by a number and an " _xx –H_ " ended it.

           He read it over a couple of times before cutting up a considerably big chunk of the cake. It looked beautiful. It had three layers of white cake and the same fruity thing in the middle. A taste told him it was cranberries. The cake was delicious, nothing like Louis had ever tasted before. He was torn between eating it all in one go and eating it in small pieces so it could last forever.

           He ate another forkful before putting the rest in the fridge and going back to the sofa, rummaging around until he found his mobile between the cushions. A quick look at it told him it was just past midnight. He forlornly sang happy birthday to himself with the slice of Harry’s cake and saved his number before taking another sip of wine opening a new message.

  **To Haryr the giant:**

_you are my favuorite person right now !!! this cake is WOW !!!! SOOOOO GOOOOD !!!!!_

           Not even a minute later his mobile went off letting him know he had a new message.

                **From** **Haryr the giant:**

_Is there anything I can do to be your favourite person for longer than just right now?_

           If he squealed and jumped around, he blamed it on the alcohol.

                 **To Haryr the giant:**

_maybe someting can be arranged (;_

           Harry’s reply came even faster than the first one.

                 **From Haryr the giant:**

_I will take you up on that._

           He was trying to figure out what to reply when another message came in.

  **From Haryr the giant:**

_I have to go now, enjoy the cake. xx_

Enjoy the cake? Was that all? Another message came in, but it was not from Harry, it was just someone wishing him a happy birthday, so he ignored it in order to send a reply to Harry.

**From Haryr the giant:**

_where are you going so fast ?_

           Too desperate? Probably. Not that he cared really.

                **From Haryr the giant:**

_I need to get some sleep. I’m up early tomorrow to drive up to my mum’s for Christmas._

**To Haryr the giant:**

_ok family guy ! goodnight x_  

          And so he went back to his cake and wine. He’d probably hear from him again. Besides, he would drive up to _his_ mum’s for Christmas soon too, and that was enough to make him happy. So with that in mind, he got himself settled on the couch and not five minutes later, he had fallen asleep right there. What little was left of wine bottle forgotten on the floor, the film still on, a dirty plate balanced on his thighs, but most importantly, a grin plastered on his face.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual a massive thank you to [Vasi](http://vanillabeanniall.tumblr.com/) for editing and always helping me out when I'm stuck with something. Hope you guys like it!

          Louis’ birthday went by uneventfully. He got calls and texts from all his family and closest friends and Zayn actually came home mid-afternoon with a couple of spliffs and a bottle of champaigne. They ate the rest of Harry’s cake and Louis tried not to be disappointed about not getting a Happy Birthday text from the boy who didn’t even know it was his birthday in the first place and had already given him cake, what more could he ask for, really?

          He did get a random text from him, though. One he made a mental note to reply once he figured out how to let him know about the important date without sounding too needy and failed, so he took the joint from Zayn and tried to push his thoughts of Harry away from his mind.

\--  

          As planned, Louis took the train up to his mum’s the next day. It was something they did every year, but the ride had never been longer. It seemed like everyone was on that train. The entirety of Britain’s population was there with him – it was Christmas day, did people not have somewhere to be? – he put on the playlist he always played for this particular event. They were songs his mum loved, songs he used to sing with his sisters when they were little and songs that put him in a good mood, but this time, it just wasn’t working. All the frustration from the previous weeks and the anticipation about maybe seeing Harry again had him on the edge of his seat, and it was something only a hug from his mum could cure. 

          As soon as he rang the doorbell, he swore the house shook. He walked in and, before he even had his shoes off, he was tackled by the twins and Fizzy. They were all telling him – well, yelling at him, really – about how much they missed him and how happy they were he was finally home.

          "Alright, you lot, let my son breathe, will you?" he heard his mum saying above all the yelling.

          The familiar smell of his home, his sisters hugging him tight and his mum’s voice had him feeling like the weight of the world had finally been lifted off his shoulders. He was trying to hold back tears, but as soon as his mum pulled the three kids away from him and opened her arms, it was of no use. A single tear ran down his face as he choked a "I missed you so much" and hurried to his mother’s arms.

          "My boy. My baby boy." And even though he was twenty two – no, twenty  _ three _ years old, there was nothing else he’d rather be than her baby boy.

          He was still holding one of her hands while the other wiped his eyes when he saw Lottie, her hip cocked against the door frame with a small smile on her lips. It was all he could do not to start crying again.

          "Can I get a hug now or should I wait a tad more?" she asked already making her way to him, her arms open. "I missed you, bro. It’s been too long."

          And it really had. It had been way too long and he promised himself to never let that happen again. Life was hectic, yes, but he made a mental note to make sure to save weekends to come and see his family. He hadn’t realised just how much he’d missed them until now.

          He did call them every now and then and he’d talk to everyone and listen to everything they had to say, they would even put the phone on speaker and let him talk silly to the babies while they giggled with glee just from hearing his voice, but it just wasn’t the same.

          Walking into the living room and seeing Doris and Ernie playing in their play yard, their laughter filling the room as they saw him made him feel warm inside and he could feel all the rest of his tension melt away. He really was home.

          After offering to help his mum multiple times and finally being pushed out of the kitchen, he spent the afternoon catching up with his sisters. He talked to Phoebe and Daisy about school, their friends and they kept asking him to go out to the backyard so they could play footie for a while, but that was put on hold until the next morning. Fizzy told him all about her new job and new boyfriend, about new friends and some of her plans for the near future. Lottie only wanted to talk about her plans on moving to London once she graduated. It was scary to see how grown up they all were, especially Lottie, but the thought of having her closer was actually really comforting.

          He spent quite a lot of time on the floor playing with Ernie and Doris, making silly faces at them from the couch whilst talking to the other girls or just holding them close before they got restless and wanted to be put down. He couldn’t get enough of them and with a twinge of guilt realised he was missing so much of their babyhood. It was something that hadn’t happened with any of his younger sisters and to say he wasn’t happy about it didn’t even begin to cover it.   

          Christmas dinner every bit as was amazing as he remembered, they were just as loud as they always were, with dishes being passed around and laughter never stopping. Dan – who had had to work that day and arrived home just before dinner – was really happy to see him  and was eager to hear all about his ‘’shenanigans in the big city’’.  After a traditional post Christmas dinner round of monopoly, they all went to sleep, the twins still yapping about footie in the backyard and his mum and Dan wanting to have a proper catch up session. Lottie and Fizzy both kissed him on the cheek before mumbling sleepy goodnights. Ernie and Doris had long been asleep. When he finally got to bed, he was tired to his bones, but couldn’t get that smile off his face, not that he was trying very hard. 

**\--**

          On the morning of the 26 th he was woken up by the twins jumping on his bed. He tried to pretend to be asleep for as long as he could, but all the jostling around and the yelling could only be ignored for so long.

          "Mum’s making pancakes, Lou!" Daisy said once he got them to sit down and talk instead of scream. "Chocolate chip pancakes!"

          "And you promised we’d play footie after breakfast" Phoebe said in a voice that dared him to disagree.

          Once he reassured them the match was still on and they’d left the room he reached in the bedside table for his phone and saw it was just past 8am.  _ Great. _ He also saw that he had a few messages from people wishing him a merry Christmas and some late birthday wishes and quite a few from Stan angrily telling him he’d kill him if he missed his New Years party and asking if he needed a ride back to London. He was going through all of them when he realised he had one from Harry.

**From Haryr the giant:**

_           Merry Christmas! Hope you have an amazing day. H _

          Was he really one of those people who signed their texts? It’s not like Louis hadn’t texted him before, he had his number.

**To Haryr the giant:**

_           thank you Harry . merry christmas to you too !! did you have a good one ? _

          He goes on replying to the most urgent messages, assuring Stan he’d be at the party before he came crashing down his door. He knew the ride would include a stop at the shops to get all the booze, but that was also tradition by now.

          He was almost finished when Harry’s reply came in.

**From Haryr the giant:**

_                 Thank you! Yeah, Christmas at my mum’s is always fun. My sister came up too and we’re just having some family time. Can’t complain. I’m probably never eating again though. How was yours? _

**To Haryr the giant:**

_                 pretty good pretty good . it was just me , mum , Dan and my brother and sisters but it couldn’t’ve been better !! _

          He hit send and instantly realised that maybe Harry wouldn’t have anything to reply to that, so he quickly thought of something else to say.

**To Haryr the giant:**

_                 and what are you up to today ? _

          With that, he set his phone down and went to the toilet for a quick shower before the girls came barging in again and he had to spend the whole day showerless and on his pyjamas.

          When he was back in his room, towel hanging low on his hips and his hair still damp, a message from Harry was waiting for him.

**From Haryr the giant:**

_                 I’m not sure yet. Gemma, that’s my sister, wants me to drive her up to Manchester, but we might do that tomorrow. _

          As if his brain to mouth filter had vanished, he was yelling for "Charlotte!" at the top of his voice before he could really think about it.

          "What, what is it?" she asked once she was in the room, a worried note on her voice and her eyes darting around the room looking for what could be wrong.

          "We’re going to Manchester," he replied as if it was as simple as that.

          "What? When? No, why?" he could see now that she was also getting ready for the day. Her hair was tied up in a messy bun and she had some make up on and the brush was still on her hand. Yeah, maybe he could’ve dealt with it better.

          "Look, Harry’s going to Manchester with his sister soon. Maybe even today. I need an excuse to go too," he explained before adding a "please?" just for good measure.

          "Will you buy me makeup?" she asked, but the smile stretching on her lips told Louis she’d say yes anyways.

          "Yes!" he replied surging forward to wrap his arms around his sister’s middle and plant a kiss on her cheek.

          "And a dress too. Now get your naked self away from me," she said smacking his bum, "and let me know when we’re leaving."

          She was halfway out the door before she turned around and added "Call me Charlotte again and I’ll chop your balls off" with a sweet smile and a bat of her eyelashes. Ever the sweet little princess, she was.

**To Haryr the giant:**

_                 my sister’s been asking me to take her too ! _

          Waiting for a reply was torture. He tried to focus on getting ready but every two seconds he went back to check on his phone. Was that too forward? Maybe Harry just wanted to spend some time with his sister and  Louis was intruding.

**From Haryr the giant:**

_                 Really? Maybe we can meet up? When are you planning on going? _

**To Haryr the giant:**

_                 tomorrow . _

**From Haryr the giant:**

_                 I think I can make that work! I’ll talk to Gemma and get back to you in a sec! _

          And not a minute later a new message came in.

**From Haryr the giant:**

_                 If you want to meet up, that is. We don’t have to. _

          And that message made him squeal loud enough for Lottie to hear and yell back "get a grip, Tomlinson!" from her room down the hall. Well, he would be ashamed but he was too busy feeling giddy. Harry seemed to want to see him again too and the fact that he was worried Louis wouldn’t want to ( _ as if  _ that would happen) was adorable. Even though his heart was pounding as fast as it was, he tried to for nonchalance. He couldn’t just give away how excited he was just by the possibility of seeing Harry again.

**To Haryr the giant:**

_                 sounds good ! _

          Harry texted him a few minutes later saying that his sister had agreed to go tomorrow and suggesting a coffee shop where they could meet up. He shoot back an agreement and a promise to talk to him later to set all details and got back to getting dressed. He really did want to see Harry and he could probably spend the rest of his day texting him, but he had made plans with his sisters today and he was  _ not  _ about to change that. Harry could wait.

          He finished getting dressed and headed down, the smell of pancakes already filling the house. Everyone but his mum, who was still flipping pancakes, was sitting on the table. He kissed her good morning before grabbing a mug and walking back to the table, kissing the top of his siblings’ head as he went.

          After breakfast he convinced the twins to help with the dishes before they went outside for their footie match, which quite impressed his mum. After that there was nothing else he could do to stall them. The teams were already set. Him against them.

          Five minutes in and their mum came watch the game with the babies, Lottie and Fizzy following them with blankets. After that it was just a mess, everyone screaming and laughing and soon enough scores were forgotten and so was the game once Louis threw Daisy over one shoulder and Phoebe over the other and proceeded to run the not so long length of their backyard kicking the ball around.

          Back inside, their cheeks flushed from the cold, the twins ran off to do their own thing, while Lottie and Fizzy went to put the babies down for a nap. Louis made two cups of tea and settled down next to his mum on the couch to watch a film, his feet under his bum, his head on his mum’s shoulder and her hands carding through his hair. He hadn’t finished his tea before he was lulled to sleep. He didn’t know how much later it was when he woke up, but the credits were rolling on the screen.

          As soon as he stirred Lottie was throwing her hands in the air and yelling "Finally! Can you let my mum go make us lunch now?" quite dramatically.

          "No, you can go make us lunch today. Give  _ my  _ mum a break," he mumbled before properly laying down with his head on said mum’s lap.

          "Now that’s a good idea," she replied giving him a pat on the cheek, "if you could just heat up the leftovers from last night, Lotts, please."

          "I think Boo Bear should help me," Lottie added with a smug touch in her voice that made Louis uncomfortable.

          He slowly opened his eyes and peered at his sister, who had a challenging look on her face, before replying carefully "No, I think I’ll just stay here,"

          "Well, then, I guess Harry would love those photos of you sleeping on mum’s shoulder," she said way too casually whilst getting up.

          "You wouldn’t," he half screamed, sitting bolt upright.

          "Who is Harry?" his mum asked, but none of them replied.

          "I’m pretty sure I have videos of you snoring too," she added as she made her to the kitchen.

          "Charlotte!" he full on yelled now "you would not dare,"  but he got up and went after her as she laughed. Maybe he was partially trying to avoid his mum’s questions for now. It sure wouldn’t last forever though.

\--

          Louis was sure he’d set his alarm for 8 am. He was sure he did, but his mobile ringing was not was woke him up. It was Lottie coming in his room and talking to him. Well, at first. Not ten seconds after she’d come in, she started yelling something way too loudly for his still sleeping brain to catch up.

          "Louis! Are you fucking kidding me?" was the first thing he understood, she might’ve had to repeat it a few times though, "if we don’t leave in half an hour we’re going to be late and I did  _ not _ wake up this early for you to be late!" she was still yelling as he sat up, rubbing his eyes. He looked at the clock and it showed 9:47.  _ Shit!  _ They were meant to leave at 10:30 so they could make it to Manchester by noon.

_           Fuck!  _ Why had Harry suggested they meet so early and  _ why the fuck _ had Louis agreed? He was not a morning person. A sloth probably moved faster than he did right after he woke up.  __

          "Fuck! Lottie! How did this- How did I not- Why didn’t you- Fuck!" he sat up on the bed, not sure of what to do.

          "Fuck sounds about right,"  she said. With her hands on her cocked hips, she looked scarily like their mum, "Shoot your boy a text, tell him you’re a knobhead and we might be getting there late," she finished, looking at him like he was dumb.

          Yes, that sounded like a good idea. He nodded to show that he understood, but that was about all his brain could manage.

          "Now, Louis! You text him right now and you go shower right now! We need to go! I did not wake up early for you to make us late," she exploded and left the room, still going on about how she should not be surprised.

**To Haryr the giant:**

_                 good morning ! something came up and we might be a tad late . not much , just like 15 minutes maybe . sorry !! _

          After that, he rushed out of bed and into the shower.

          When he came out some 20 minutes later, a text was waiting for him.

**From Haryr the giant:**

_                 Morning, Lou! No problem, I’ll just leave a bit later. _

          Okay, so he had 10 minutes to get dressed and get on the car and they’d make it on time.

          He almost made it. 15 minutes and three different shirts later, he was walking down the stairs. Lottie was sitting on the sofa, impatiently tapping her foot. One would think it was her date. Not that it was a date. If it was he wouldn’t be taking his sister, of course. He was a proper gentleman with very good manners.

          As he expected, his mum was in the kitchen cooking breakfast. The babies were sitting on their high chairs, with little bowls of porridge in front of them, spoons not even touched and their hands and faces full of it.

          "Mum, I don’t think this is working very well," he laughed before kissing her on the cheek.

          "Oh, I know, love," she smirked, "I’ll be over there to feed the little monsters in a mo," she said as he grabbed an apple to eat on the road.

          "I can still borrow the car, right?" he double checked before taking a bite at his apple.

          "That depends," she started, turning around to face him, "are you going to tell who Harry is?" she finished with a raised eyebrow.

          He was so surprised he choked; it was a full minute before he’d gotten himself under control. He chewed slowly and wiped his watering eyes before he muttered an embarrassed "maybe" without really looking at his mum.

          "Well, then.  _ Maybe  _ I’ll let you borrow the car," she told him with a fake sweet smile and turned back to whatever she was cooking.

          " _ Muuuum!" _  he whined like no 23 year old would be proud to be caught doing, "yes, I’ll tell you about him," he could tell that she was already smiling, "when I get back," he finished and saw her deflate a bit. Good, he still had his dignity.

          "The keys are by the door," she sighed.

          "Ace!" he beamed before kissing Ernie on the cheek. When he moved on to do the same to Doris, he got a tiny slap on the face, chubby fingers full of porridge. He froze, lips still pressed to her round cheeks while her laugh still rang around the room.

          "Mum!" he whined yet again. How old was he? 11? "Mum, look what she did!" he cried, showing his mum his cheek. Yup, 11 should be just about right.

          "Oh, love, that’s nothing," she dismissed before wetting a cloth and cooing at Doris who just shrieked even louder.

          Go on, then," she said once she’d cleaned his face, "Drive safe and let me know when you get there," she requested.

          He walked back to the living room to fetch Lottie and by 10:40 am they were off to Manchester.

\--

          By the looks of it, they wouldn’t be quite as late as they thought they would. The road wasn’t too packed and they had just about half an hour to drive until they got there.

          That’s when Louis decided he needed to make sure she knew some things, so he lowered the volume on the radio – some electronic bullshit that had too much nonsense for Louis’ liking – and said "Right, we need to set some ground rules,"

          "we go," she sung.

          "I’m serious! Firstly, you cannot embarrass me," he said.

          "As if I’d ever do that, Lou!" she feigned innocence.

          "Yeah, yeah," he rolled his eyes and went on, "no embarrassing childhood stories," he told her, "or pictures for that matter!" he added. Best not to leave any loopholes. He glanced at her just in time to see her face fall.

          "Not even the Lion King one?" she almost pleaded with wide eyes.

          "Not even the Lion King one!" he stated. Puppy dog eyes did not work on him.

          "But, Lou, that one is so cute! I’ve been waiting for so long to tell someone about that! Please, just that one?" she begged.

          "Not even the Lion King one," he finished sternly. 

          "Oh, fine! You’re no fun," she sighed, crossing her arms and looking out the window, but a slight tug on the corner of her lips told Louis she was up to no good.

          "Secondly, please be nice to his sister. Even if she’s not," he knew it was something big to ask for. Like himself, Lottie was not one to hold her tongue.

          "You’re not going to ship me off with her, are you?" she asked turning to face him again.

          "Well, do you want all your makeup or not? You don’t think I’m going from shop to shop with you, do you?" he asked, but added quickly, "she’ll be fine though. If Harry’s anything to go by, I mean."

          "Oh my god, are you going to write odes about him and how good he smells again?" she hissed, but he could tell she wasn’t really mad so he just rolled his eyes and worked on getting them safe to Manchester.

          The rest of the ride was filled with easy banter between the two of them, the music a low lull in the background.

\--

          When they got to the little café, there were no curly headed boys with green eyes to be found, so they grabbed a table outside to wait.

          Not even ten minutes later, a girl with lilac hair walked in, only to come back out second after. She glanced around and walked straight to their table, pulling out a chair and sitting with them.

          "Hello, Louis," she said whilst taking her sunglasses off, "It’s nice to finally meet you, I’ve heard a lot about you," she told him with a smile. And he knew that smile. He knew that smile but not on that face. 

          "You’re Harry’s sister," he guessed.

          "Yes, I am the better Styles," she joked, "also known as Gemma,"

          "Nice to meet you, Gemma," he said still a bit dumbfounded by just how straightforward she was, "right, this is my sister Lottie," he waves at Lottie’s direction.

          "Nice to meet you, Lottie," she said sounding genuine, now smiling at his sister.

          "I love your hair!" Lottie almost shouted.

          "Thank you! Your makeup looks amazing!" she told her.

          Before they could turn him off and go into their little beauty world, he cleared his throat as asked if Harry was coming. Which was a dumb question, he knew he was, but where was he?

          "Oh, yeah, like he’d miss an opportunity to see you," she said like it was obvious, making Louis blush, "He just asked me to come in first and get us a table, but you were already here… He’ll be here in a second, don’t worry,"

          They went on talking, hitting it off like a house on fire. Louis was really glad because, if he was being honest, he really wanted Lottie to like Harry and this was already a great start. It was only when Lottie whispered something on Gemma's ear that he started to get worried. Gemma only looked at him as she hummed and told Lottie to "just wait for the right moment," her smirk making Louis uncomfortably suspicious.

          It didn’t take Harry two minutes to show up, but it was long enough to get Louis fidgety. Lottie and Gemma had already bonded, their heads bent together and talking way too fast for Louis to follow. Not that he was trying very hard, his mind was somewhere else. Well, with  _ somebody _ else.

          Suddenly Lottie asked Gemma something, nodding her head somewhere behind the girl, who just turned and nodded. Before Louis could register what was happening, she was up and almost running away from the table, Louis calling out to her but to no avail. He turned to Gemma, looking for an explanation, but she just shrugged as an amused smile took over her face.

          He looked around trying to figure out what was happening. That’s when he spotted him. Harry. His eyes went wide and his brows furrowed as Lottie stopped in front of him, her hand outstretched and, though Louis could not hear what she was saying, it could not be good. That’s when his senses caught up with him and, cursing under his breath, he got up and ran after her, leaving Gemma at the table as she burst out laughing.

          "Charlotte!" he all but yelled, "what do you think you’re doing?"

          She looked back then, stopping midsentence, but Louis didn’t notice. He was looking at Harry whose face had relaxed again, his dimples popping up as a smile took over his face, his cheeks tinted red.

          "Louis is being an arse and forbidding me of telling you stuff, please save me," she pleaded, but Harry wasn’t paying her any attention either.

          "Hi," he said, sounding a little breathless.

          "Hello," Louis replied, his smile nearly splitting his face in two.

          "Oh, for fuck’s sake," Lottie exclaimed, throwing her hands up and stalking back to the restaurant, leaving the two of them alone.

          They stood there for a second, just looking at each other and smiling before someone walked past and knocked their shoulder against Harry’s **,** making him lose his balance and take a step towards Louis, who steadied him with a hand on his hips. 

          "Hi," Harry said again, now from much closer, wrapping his arms around Louis’ shoulders.

          Louis sighed as he wrapped his arms around Harry’s waist and instantly blushed, hoping Harry hadn’t noticed. He had been more nervous than he’d realised, but now, actually having Harry in front of him, he realised it was stupid to have worried about anything.

          And, boy, did he smell good. Louis knew it, but his memories paid Harry no respect. Louis felt as comfortable in Harry’s arms as he did an old friend’s and he briefly wondered if that should be normal, but he didn’t really care. It just felt natural and he just hoped it would be the first time of many.

          Way too soon, Harry pulled away, but made up for it by planting a soft kiss to Louis’ heated cheeks.

          "So, I take it that was your sister?" he asked as he draped an arm over Louis’ shoulder and started towards the restaurant.

          "Yes, that’s Lottie," he told him and after a little pause, added, "and she’s a filthy liar, you should not believe a single word she says," earning himself a loud laugh from the other boy.

          "Hello, Lottie," Harry said as they got to the table, "it’s lovely to meet you. I’m really sorry I was so rude to you back there, it’s just that I was a little distracted," he explained as he shot a soft grin at Louis, making him blush and prompting Gemma to make disgusted noises.

          After they’d settled down and placed their orders, they fell into amicable conversation. Harry trying to get to know more about Louis and his life and charming Lottie right out of her pants, while Louis watched his sister floundering about and finding it all just as hilarious as Gemma. Talking to her was not as difficult as Louis might’ve thought,  she was just as sweet and bubbly as Harry and the conversation flowed between the four of them as if they’d been friends for a long time.

          Louis talked excitedly about studying Performance Arts at the University of London and talked about his dream of teaching drama to kids and how he planned to do that as soon as possible. All during Louis’ almost monologue, Harry listened intently, a small smile on his face, his head propped on his hand. Lottie and Gemma only exchanged amused looks, no words were needed.

          Harry explained about not being in uni yet and told them about having applied in September, but the results were yet to come out. He went on to tell them how he wanted to study Law, Sociology, Business and something else that he wasn’t quite sure of in the University of Manchester, Gemma mouthing along and rolling her eyes as if she’d heard that story a thousand times before.

          She then talked about how she was studying Journalism at the University of Leeds and Lottie told them about her plans of moving to London as soon as she graduated from school, about how she wasn’t sure what she wanted to study in uni yet, but that she planned on taking makeup courses and work in that area.

          By the time the food came, they were talking about jobs. Gemma had told them about her column on a small magazine in Leeds and how she also wrote for a blog with a few other people from uni and told Lottie that they might have a spot for her to write about and give tips on makeup if she was interested, which she excitedly agreed on.

          "Well, I work in a little tea shop in central London," Harry told them between bites, "I’m the baker and if Sarah is busy I help her out at the counter too,"

          "Lotts,  you should’ve eaten the cake he gave me on my birthday," he said, mouth watering at the memory even though he had a plate full of food right in front of him, "it was amazing!"

          "It was your birthday?" Harry asked at the same time as Lottie whispered, "yes, Lou, I’ve heard all about it already,"

          "Um, yeah…" he shrugged, "when you gave me the cake it was,"

          "Why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve baked you something bigger and better. That was just a tiny little cake," he asked as if it was outrageous that Louis hadn’t informed him of his birthday mere hours after they met.

          "Hey! Don’t bring my birthday cake down! You didn’t have to change anything, it was perfect," he said with a bashful smile, "and besides, it was big enough to feed me a few times and Zayn once, so I can’t really complain"

          "Zayn is his roommate," Lottie hurried to say as she saw Harry’s brow furrow, "just his bro pal buddy who is in no way romantically involved with my brother," Louis cast her a confused glance and got an exasperated one in response.

          "Wait, your birthday in on Christmas eve?" Harry asked with an excited smile.

          "Yeah, it’s been like that for about 23 years now," he replied and wondered how old Harry was. Probably not older than he was, but not that much younger either. 

          Apparently Harry was wondering the same thing because, as Gemma laughed, he just said "Oh, so you’re 23? I’ve been trying to bring that up, but it’s not very polite to ask someone’s age, is it?" Louis waited for the information he wanted as Harry took a bite and chewed deliberately slow, "Oh, and I’m turning 21 soon by the way," he added with a cheeky grin. 

          By the time they finished eating, Louis was more attuned to Harry then he'd thought possible in such a short amount of time. They were mostly talking between themselves, unaware of their sisters’ eyes and comments.

          It was only when dessert came that the bomb dropped.

          "So, Lottie here tells me that her brother has forbidden her from telling embarrassing stories," Gemma said devilishly, causing Harry to stop mid chew and look at her, his eyes widening and cheeks already reddening, "it's a shame you didn't think of doing that, isn't it, little bro?" and the smirk was back. When he looked at Harry and saw the dread clear on his features it made him torn. He wanted to hear everything. Wanted to know every detail of every little event that made him who he was, so he compromised.

          "If you let her tell me one, I'll let Lottie tell you one" he offered.

          "Yeah, deal" he answered after a second. Lottie whooped in victory.

          "Louis used to think he was Simba when he was a kid," she blurted, as if she couldn’t hold it in any longer and scooched to the edge of her seat, "He used to walk around in all fours, making little paws with his hands and roar at us and lick Mum, saying that they were lion kisses," she finished, sitting back down, "God, I've always wanted to say that,"

          Louis blushed beet red. He really wasn't ready for Lottie to go first, Gemma would probably only say something about how Harry couldn't say certain words right and he'd be the stupid lion kid.

          "You were too young to remember that," he mumbled, mentally cursing his mum’s videos. 

          "That's adorable," Harry whispered, nudging Louis's foot with his own, his eyes soft.

          "Oh, don't be gross," Gemma whined, "now, Harry here used to be Snow White. Like, he genuinely believed he was Snow White. He even stopped eating apples for a while because he thought they’d be poisoned," she said patting his hand, "had a proper dress and everything, didn't you?"

          "I really hope you have pictures," was all Louis could come up with. The idea of little Harry dressed as Snow White was too adorable.

          They spend the next fifteen minutes with each sister trying to outembarrass their brother. Louis didn't know when it became a competition, but he loved every new tale he was told and Harry didn't seem too bothered to hear Louis' childhood stories.

          "Well, at least I didn't run down the street chasing the cat stark naked," Harry told Gemma, clearly trying to end the conversation.

          "Are you kidding me? That was you, Harry," she countered.

          "Oh," he mumbled confused, before shrugging his shoulders as if that was not all that surprising. Louis wasn't sure if he wanted to hear the story.

          A few more embarrassing things later, Harry excused himself for a trip to the loo and came back with the waiter profusely thanking him for the generous tip, Harry trying to brush him off with a bashful smile.

          "I know how hard it is for us who depend on tips," he shrugged as Louis asked him what that was about, "ready to go?" he asked looking around the table.

          "Yeah, let me just pay the bill," Louis said looking for a waiter.

          "Oh, I already took care of that," Harry replied like it was nothing.

          "What? All of it? Even mine and Lottie’s? You shouldn’t have, Harry! Let me pay you back," he blurted out and reached for his wallet.

          "No, don’t worry, Lou. It was no problem," Harry reassured him, reaching out to take hold of his wrist.

          "Thank you, Harry," Lottie said before Louis could say anything else and cast him a warning glance.

          "Yes, thank you, Harry," Louis repeated and stood on his tip toes to kiss Harry on the cheek, "I’ll get the next one, yeah?," he offered once he had both feet firmly on the ground.

          "Yeah, that sounds good," he mumbled looking down as their sisters catcalled.

          They set off down the road with no real destination in mind, Gemma and Lottie walking ahead of them, arms linked together.

          With every few steps, the back of Harry’s hand would brush against Louis’ and he just wanted to take hold of it and not let go until they had to go back, maybe not even then.

          "I just moved to London two years ago," was what Harry was saying when their hands brushed again for what felt like the hundredth time, "Niall moved first, just a couple of months before I did and Liam a few aft-" was where he stopped when Louis gathered enough courage to finally hold his hand.

          Harry stuttered a little bit as he looked down between Louis and their joined hands. A huge smile spread on his face and his eyes twinkled. He gently squeezed Louis’ hand and resumed talking. Louis’ stomach flip flopped when he noticed that Harry’s smile never really left his face.

          They were so caught up in their little world that they didn’t realise when their sisters stopped and would’ve just walked past them it hadn’t been for Lottie grabbing hold of his arm.

          "Makeup," was all she said and pointed to the store behind them. She looked down at their joined hands with a smirk and a raised eyebrow. He glanced at Gemma and she was wearing a similar expression as Harry just beamed at her, rocking on the balls of his feet as if holding Louis’ hands was the best possible thing to happen at that moment and, if Louis was being honest, he felt like it was too.

          He reached for his wallet with his free hand and flipped it open without letting go of Harry’s hand.

          "The red card," he instructed, "please behave," he pleaded. She only winked at him and pulled Gemma by the arm into the store. "I’ll be broke by the end of today, won’t I?" he asked and dropped his forehead to Harry’s shoulder.

          "Probably," he laughed and let go of Louis’ hand, only to wrap both arms around his waist, his warmth making Louis shiver.

          And that’s how the rest of their afternoon went. The girls popping in and out of shops while the two of them waited outside and dropping more and more shopping bags to their free hands. It might’ve gotten a tad too heavy at some point, but neither of them was willing to let go of the other’s hand.

          By the end of the afternoon they found themselves having tea inside a cosy little teashop, trying to warm up from the bitter December cold.

          Louis didn’t want to leave. He wasn’t ready to lose Harry’s constant presence beside him and didn’t want to stop holding his hand whenever he wanted to, but he also didn’t want to drive back at night and it was already dark out.

          "I think we should start heading back, Lotts," he sighed and set his empty cup down, "I hate driving at night,"

          They all agreed that it was best for them to go home, everyone tired from walking around all afternoon and not very keen on staying out in the cold more than strictly necessary.

          As they set off, making their way back to the restaurant where they’d met up, Louis’ and Harry’s hand reached for each other as if it was the most natural thing to do and it made Louis warm inside despite the bitter cold.

          By the time they reached Louis’ car,parked a few doors down from the restaurant, Lottie and Gemma were hugging and making plans to talk and see each other again soon.

          "Well, bye," Louis said as he looked up to see Harry’s smile a little dimmer. He knew they’d be seeing each other again and he knew it probably wouldn’t take very long for that to happen, but he couldn’t help but feel a little sad to be going separate ways.

           " What are you doing on New Years?" Harry whispered, leaning his forehead against Louis’, apparently just as unwilling to go as Louis was.

           " I’ve got my mate Stan’s party. He’d kill me if I missed it," he replied, "do you want to come?"

           " Can’t," Harry replied, disappointed, "me and the lads are holding a party at our place. Can’t really miss that either," he shrugged.

           " But we’ll see each other soon, yeah?" Louis asked hopefully.

           " Yes, definitely," Harry smiled and leaned down to peck Louis on the lips. It was over so soon, but Louis could still feel the ghost of Harry’s lips on his.  

          It was an impulse decision, really. Louis was known for those. In an instant he was on his tiptoes, wrapping his arms around Harry’s neck and pulling him in for another kiss. Harry reacted just as quick, pulling Louis even closer by the waist and kissing him back as if he’d been waiting all afternoon to do just that.

          "Hello??" Louis heard Gemma singsong, "there are kids here," and Louis felt one of Harry’s hands leave his waist and an displeased noise left his throat, "oh my god, Lottie, turn away," Gemma said in an indignant tone and that had both Louis and Harry cracking up.          

          "Okay," Harry said without letting Louis go, "I’ll see you soon," he pecked Louis’s lips again, "Gemma, let’s go," he called out and kissed Louis quickly again. And again. And once more before he pulled away.

          By the time Louis had loaded all of Lottie’s shopping onto the boot of the car, Harry had come back to kiss him three times while Gemma waited at the curb with her arms crossed, tapping her foot impatiently and Lottie was sitting inside the car trying to warm up.

          "I can do this now, right?" Harry asked quietly as he held Louis’ face with his cold fingers, "tell me I can do this now."          

          "You can," Louis whispered back and Harry’s smile made the butterflies in his stomach go crazy.

          "You guys are awful," was the first thing Lottie said when he got in the car, "completely disgusting," she continued but he could tell she was smiling without even having to look at her, "but he’s amazing and I’m really happy for you, Lou," she said in such an honest voice that it made him tear up.

          By the time they reached the highway, he just couldn’t sit still. He kept remembering things that happened that afternoon and he was so happy he felt like he could burst. He was drumming on the steering wheel and fiddling with the radio constantly. He wanted to scream to the world how happy he was.

          "What’s going on?" Lottie asked after what felt like hours sitting in silence, even though it hadn’t even been twenty minutes.

          "I’m just so happy, Lotts, I’m buzzing," he replied turning to look at her, the huge smile on his face almost making his eyes crinkle shut.

          "Go on, then," she smiled back, "We can have a little dance party,"

          It was something they used to do when they were younger. When anything even slightly exciting happened – really anything, from the ice cream truck driving by to their mum announcing she was pregnant – they would jump around whilst screaming and laughing and dance around to let all the excitement out. They hadn’t done it in forever, but Louis couldn’t imagine a more appropriate reaction to the moment.

          And so it was, he threw his head back and laughed while slamming his fist against the steering wheel, honking repeatedly, whilst Lottie hit the dashboard with her hands and stomped her feet, laughing too. It wasn’t too long before someone drove by yelling something probably not too nice, making him stop, but that had been enough to make Louis a little calmer.

\--

          They got home just after 10pm and the house dark. Dan’s car was not in the driveway, which meant he was on call that night. They got inside and toed their shoes off without making too much noise and headed upstairs, sharing a brief hug before they headed to their rooms.

          He was heading back to his room after taking a quick shower, the smile still tattooed to his face, when he saw his mum waiting for him outside of her own bedroom.

          "Are you going to tell me who this Harry is now?" she asked.

          "Yeah, alright," he mumbled without meeting her eyes.

          "I’ll go make us some tea then," she told him before heading downstairs.

          He stopped by his room to text Harry and let him know he’d gotten home safe and wish him a good night before following his mum into the kitchen.

          "Right, so… Harry," she started after he’d sat down without saying anything. He didn’t quite know how to begin, but there was no escaping it now.

          "Yeah, I met him the night before my birthday," he started and things seemed to flow from there. It was easy to talk about him, really, easier than it should have been, probably, and it was soon, way too soon, but Louis was at least halfway sure he was halfway in love with the boy. Before he knew it, both cups were empty and his mum was beaming at him.

          "He sounds great, love. I’m really happy for you," she said coming around to hug him.

          They chatted aimlessly for a little while longer before they headed up to bed, where Louis found a message from Harry waiting for him.

**From Haryr the giant:**

_                 Just got home, too. I had a lovely time today, Lou. Goodnight ;) xx _

          It certainly seemed like one.

\--

          The morning of the 30th wasn’t as much fun. After breakfast he had a hard time leaving, even though he’d let everyone know he had to go right after it. His mum wanted him to stay for New Years and his sisters were whining about how much they missed him and, truth be told, he really missed them too. It had been such a long time since they’d all gotten together. With Doris and Ernie having already gotten so big, he was upset he was missing out on so much.

          Phoebe and Daisy were being particularly hard and had hidden his phone while he was helping his mum clean up the dishes. After talking to them and explaining that he really did need to go back, he promised them he’d come back as soon as he could and, somehow, convinced Stan to leave right after lunch; that way, they wouldn’t have to drive in the dark and would still get home fairly early.

          Actually leaving was harder than he expected. The older twins started crying and the younger ones followed suit. His mum was trying really hard to hold it together, but was doing a poor job of it. The only dry eyed ones where Lottie and Fizzy, Louis having joined the crying party long ago – he might’ve been the first one crying, but he wasn’t about to admit it. 

          "They’ll be fine, don’t worry," Stan said once they drove off, half of Louis’ body hanging out the window so he could wave at his family.

          "I know," he sighed, sitting down and buckling up. He really did and it soothed him, but it also pained him to know they didn’t need him there anymore.

          "Stop worrying, mama’s boy,’’ Stan said, ruffling his hair, "it’s not like they don’t need you, they just learned how to make it work without you," Louis looked at his friend wondering when he learned to read minds, "it’s not a bad thing,"

          Louis just nodded, desperate to change subjects.

          "They’re all really happy for you, Lou. It’s clear as day how proud your mum is," and that eased some of the weight pressing down on his chest.

          After that, Stan seemed to sense Louis’ need to change the topic and they’re conversation moved effortlessly to lighter ones. They started to catch up on the last few months they hadn’t seen each other and Louis settled a little more, trying to ignore the last drop of unease on his stomach.

          They’d just hit the A1 when Louis thought to shoot Harry a text letting him know that he was heading back to London. It was five minutes later, when his mobile pinged with two new texts from Harry, that he felt the last bit of restlessness leave his body.

**From Haryr the giant:**

_                 Don’t text and drive! _

**From Haryr the giant:**

_                 Let me know when you get there xx _

**To Haryr the giant:**

_                 Im not driving Stan is _

**From Haryr the giant:**

_                 Good then. How are you doing? _

**To Haryr the giant:**

_                 not too bad . kinda hard to leave the family , you know ? _

**From Haryr the giant:**

_                 Yeah, I do. Do you come to visit often? _

**To Haryr the giant:**

_                 not as often as i should . things are crazy back in london but i need to make more time for them _

**From Haryr the giant:**

_                 It’s a new year soon, lots of things can change. _

          Louis bit his bottom lip trying to contain his smile. He felt that Harry was talking about more than just going to visit his family more frequently.  __

**To Haryr the giant:**

_                 yeah i’d really like that  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I'm going to do my best to update every tuesday, but I won't promise anything because I suck at following schedules. If you feel like talking you can find me on [tumblr](http://tinylouistomlinson.tumblr.com/) xx


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always a huge thank you to [Vasi](http://vanillabeanniall.tumblr.com/) for helping me out all the time. You're the best. Hope you guys enjoy it!

          The next time he hears from Harry is on the next morning. Stan had left him at home just after midnight. They drove back from Doncaster and stopped by multiple shops until Stan had found everything he wanted. He woke up after noon and checked his phone to find a missed text from Harry.

**From Haryr the giant:**

_                 I know I’ve asked you this already, but I don’t remember the answer. Do you have plans for tomorrow? _

          Truth was, he did. Stan was throwing his traditional New Year’s party and it was epic. He didn’t want to miss it and Stan would probably never speak to him again if he did. But was it worth missing the opportunity to be with Harry again?  _ Was it?  _ So he texted his friend asking if  he could maybe leave early or get there late, even though he already knew the answer.

**From Stan:**

_                 I will pretend that u didnt ask me such a stupid question but I will tell u that if you are not here by 7 I will personally drag ur tiny little ass from wherever u are to my place. consider urself warned _

          Okay, so maybe he couldn’t miss it.

**To Haryr the giant:**

_                 yeah , a party at me mates , he threatened bodily harm if i dont show up . sorry _

**From Haryr the giant:**

_                 It’s alright. You told me that, I was just hoping the answer had changed.  _

          He wanted it to change. He wanted Harry’s answer to change so he’d be able to go with him to Stan’s.

**To Haryr the giant:**

_                 do you want to come with me ? _

**From Haryr the giant:**

_                 We’re having some people over, I just wanted to know if you wanted to come. Don’t worry though, there’s always next year xx  H _

          Fuck yeah, he wanted to come. He wanted to come ever since Harry first asked him. But he couldn’t, so he closed his eyes, took a deep breath and texted him an apology.

          Who signed their texts anyway?

\--

It was almost midnight and Louis was drunk out of his mind so of course sending Harry a text seemed to be a perfectly good idea.

**To Haryr the giant:**

_                 HAPPY NEW YEARS !!! WISH U WERE HERE TO BE MY MIDNIHGT KSS _

__ And just like that, the thought was gone. He shoved his phone back in his pocket and tried to take a sip of his empty cup. He tried to decide whether he’s had too much or not, but just for thinking that he deemed himself way too sober, so he threw himself into the mass of bodies that was keeping him from the kitchen, clutching his cup up above his head.

Some time after that he’s shimmying in time to the music, his sweaty body surrounded by way too many people and he feels incredible. A few faceless men came to dance with him, whispering flattering things in his ears and he would indulge them, making his eyes just a tad more sultry and his hips just a hint more loose, but before it went too far, he’d walk away with his head thrown back and laughter drowned by the music. It was all fun, yes, but they weren’t Harry.

And so the countdown began, and he was buzzing.

_10_

__ _ 9 _

__ Literally buzzing. He pulls his phone out of his back pocket and looks at it.  _ Haryr the giant. _

__ ‘’Is Harry calling me?’’ he yells at the nearest girl, pulling her away from her midnight kiss just for a second.

She looks at his phone and then at him like he was crazy but nodded anyway, already turning her back to him.

_ 7 _

__ _ 6 _

And he picks up. He can hear people cheering on the other side of the line, but as soon as Harry’s voice comes through, that’s the only thing he can hear.

‘’Happy New Year, Lou!’’ he yells, smile evident through his voice.

Louis says it back and after a moment of silence, they do the only thing that seems possible. They count down. Together.

_ 3 _

__ _ 2 _

__ ‘’ONE!’’ they scream out together, Louis throwing the hand that is not holding his phone up.

‘’I’m saving my new years kiss for you, Lou,’’ Harry mumbles on the other side of the line.

‘’So am I, Harold. It’s no one else’s,’’ he answers back softly, biting his lip.

And then Stan is throwing himself at him and his phone is flying out of his hand. When he gets it back, the call has disconnected, but it’s alright. He didn’t need to say anything else.

\--

By the time he arrives home, it is way past 3 a.m. and there’s a figure on his doorstep. He is startled at first, but then he recognizes the mess of curls. Harry is sitting there and he is apparently fast asleep. His long legs are bent at the knee, his hands shoved between his thighs and his shoulders are hunched forward as if he was trying to protect himself from the cold. He was dressed in black skinny jeans and a yellow button up with huge red and blue somethings. It shouldn’t work, but somehow he pulls it off and it is adorable.

Louis takes a step forward before he whispers ‘’Harry?’’ and nothing. The boy still sits there breathing peacefully. ‘’Harry?’’ He tries again, louder this time but still to no avail. So he takes a step closer and, as gently as his drunk self can manage, shakes his shoulder, ‘’Hazza?’’

And that does it. Harry is sleepily blinking his eyes open and looking around until his eyes make contact with Louis’ knees and he is looking up, smile making its way into his face as he stands.

‘’Hi,’’ he says, voice a bit rough. And it’s really not fair that he is already that much taller than Louis and is currently standing a step above him, so Louis grabs his shoulders and turns them around.

‘’There, much better,’’ he says seriously, smoothing Harry’s sleeves.

‘’I came here, but you weren’t home, so I thought I’d wait for you to get here ,’’ Harry says unfazed, ‘’’To be your 3:48 a.m. kiss’’ he continues after checking the time on his phone.

And that has Louis lunging himself at Harry, lips not really lined, but it’s good enough. He winds his arms around Harry’s neck and feels his left foot rising like he’s in the fucking  _ Princess Diaries  _ or some shit. He really needs to get a grip. And then he’s being moved backwards until his back hits the door while Harry glues his chest to Louis and it’s so oddly familiar that it makes a shiver run down Louis’ spine.

‘’Happy new year, Harry,’’ he says, a little breathless, but smiling nonetheless.

‘’I feel like it’s going to be,’’ Harry replies in a husky voice and the look in his eyes has the smile wiped right off Louis’ face.

And they’re kissing again, Harry’s hand on his waist, his thumbs tracing patterns just above his trousers and it was driving him insane.

‘’Well, hello, kids,’’ said a voice behind Harry’s back and fuck. His. Life. Was there no better timing for Zayn to come home, really? ‘’You might want to take this inside, I don’t think our elderly neighbours would enjoy the show to be honest. Not that I’m complaining,’’ and Louis can hear the smirk in his voice without even having to look. He can also tell that Zayn is drunk and, judging by how early he’s coming home, he probably has someone with him.  _ Bingo. _

He raises his head to find Zayn with his arm thrown around some boy whose name he probably won’t remember comes morning. And he sighs dropping his head to the side Harry’s shoulder, who was waving excitedly at Zayn.

‘’Look, I’d invite you in, but this is really not something you want to experience.’’ He tells Harry, his voice slightly muffled by his shirt.

‘’Do you want to go back to mine? Knowing Niall, the party is still going on strong,’’ he asks Louis, turning back to him and running a comforting hand up and down his back. And Louis is tired, so so tired, but when he looks up, the hopeful look on Harry’s eyes, clearly distinguishable even in the dim light, has him nodding his head.

‘’Alright, Zayn, I’m heading over to Harry’s.’’ He says taking Harry’s hand and leading him down the steps. ‘’Have fun,’’ he adds as they walk past him, with a clap on his  back.

‘’Hello, Zayn. Goodbye, Zayn,’’ he hears Harry mutter.

‘’Goodbye, lovebirds.’’ Zayn booms behind them, ‘’And may the new year treat you well,’’

‘’Amen,’’ he yells back and just a second later, when he heard the door slam, said more quietly to Harry, ‘’Okay, lead the way.’’ Their hands were still clasped tightly together, and neither of them were exactly making a move to change that.

The walk to Harry’s house is not a long one and it is made in an amicable silence, no longer holding hands, but Harry now had his arm around Louis’ shoulders, and that made him feel so small but so comfortable against the taller boy’s side that he feels himself grinning all the way.

When they get there, there is no doubt which house is Harry’s. It’s the only one in the rather dark street that qute literally screams. There are bright lights flashing through the windows and the beat of the music is audible for a couple blocks any direction.

‘’Are your neighbours not going to complain?’’ he asks.

‘’We talked to most of them about it. That house, that house and that one as well,’’ he explains pointing at each house in turn, ‘’are empty. This one and that one over there,’’ he pointed to a few more houses, ‘’even got cakes. They’re my favourites, see? We even have them around for tea sometimes.’’ He finished in a whisper as if he didn’t want his other neighbours to listen to it.

And yeah,  _ of course _ he bakes them cakes and has them around for tea. They’re probably elderly couples who are utterly endeared by Harry and his big smiles and chocolate curls. Not that Louis can relate to that. Absolutely not.

Upon entering the house, Louis was engulfed by a wave of heat, making Harry’s lack of jacket make more sense. He takes off his jacket as he looks around at the hallway filled with people: some talking, some kissing, some just sat on the stairs in small groups, laughing, and some just standing around on their phones. Then Harry is reaching for his hand and pulling him along, up a flight of stairs and then another, Harry stumbling a little bit, trying to avoid stepping on his guests and uttering apologies every time he got close to doing so. They stop in front of a closed door as Harry pets his pocket looking for something.

‘’We lock our doors,’’ he explains fishing key out of his front pocket, ‘’we’ve had some, um – accidents before,’’

He opens the door and grabs Louis’ jacket and throws it inside before locking the door again.

‘’C’mon, I’ll give you the tour later. I want you to meet my boys,’’ he said, already holding out his hand and turning to go back downstairs.

And so they made their way back downstairs, Harry leading the way and their hands still firmly clasped between them.

‘’Now we have to find-‘’ he started as he entered the kitchen, but was cut off by someone running into him, his abrupt stop making Louis walk into him.

‘’Liam! I was looking for you!’ he said louder than necessary once all of them regained their footing.

‘’Harry! You’re back!’’ the boy - Liam - said, smiling so big his eyes looked like tiny slits, ‘’how did operation woo Lou-’’ and he stopped talking and his face fell once he saw Louis standing there. A blush blooming on his already rosy cheeks in the dim light.

‘’Yeah, um… Liam, this is Louis,’’ Harry said pulling Louis closer but looking down at his shuffling feet, ‘’Louis, this is Liam,’’ he finished, peeking up at Louis with a small smile.

‘’Hello, Liam,’’ Louis greeted, extending his free hand. Liam shook it, but his wide eyes never left Louis’ face. 

‘’Yeah, I can see what the fuss is about,’’ he mumbled, making Louis snicker.

‘’Heeeeey, get your own man,’’ Harry whined, his brows furrowed. Liam eyes went comically wide as his hands flew up to his mouth, making Louis laugh even harder.

‘’It was nice to meet you too, mate,’’ he said as he clapped the boy on the back and pulled Harry forward to the kitchen, ‘’Now, what does a boy have to do to get drinks around here?’’ he asked, feeling drunk with power and probably already too much alcohol.

          Harry grabbed two cups and filled them up with god knows what, handing one to Louis, muttering a ‘cheers’ before drinking the whole thing in a few gulps, while Louis decides that sipping it would be a better idea. They walk into what Louis suspects is the living room when it’s not crowded by way too many people. It doesn’t take them long to find Niall, who is dancing on top of a table with a bottle of champagne dangling from his hand and his head thrown back in laughter. Louis is instantly charmed. 

Harry tries to call out for Niall, but the music is too loud for him to be heard. He then proceeds to flail his arms around in a hilarious attempt to grab the other boy’s attention and hits a few people in the process. Niall continues dancing, oblivious of anything that isn’t his dancing or the bottle in his hand. The people around him soon realise what Harry is trying to do and start poking Niall, pointing at Harry. By the time that happens, Louis is too busy clutching his stomach and shaking with silent laughter at Harry’s lack of coordination to try and do anything to help.

When Niall finally looks over, his face lights up even more and he shouts something that is lost in the sea of people. Harry does something that has the boy jumping off the table and only the top of his blonde head is visible as he makes his way over.

‘’Harry!’’ he yells going in for a hug, but stops halfway when he sees Louis, who is still smiling.

‘’You must be Louis!’’ he shouts way too close to Louis’ ear, hugging him instead. ‘’You really are tiny,’’ he mumbles and Louis would be cross on a normal day, but he is quite drunk and something about the way that Niall says it that makes him think that he doesn’t mean it as a bad thing, so he just laughs.

‘’Do you drink?’’ he asks, still holding Louis by the shoulder, ‘’of course you do. Wine,’’ he continues with a glance at Harry that makes Louis confused, ‘’do you drink any real alcohol?’’ and before Louis can answer, Niall notices the cup he’s holding and grabs Louis’ wrist and brings it up to his nose, ‘’Great! We have tequila!’’ he finishes with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

He pulls Louis by the wrist he’s still holding and drags him back to the kitchen. It’s all really funny and somewhat overwhelming. Louis only had time to look back at Harry who looked utterly confused to see them go before the door closes behind him. Then Niall is letting go of his wrist and bustling about, opening cupboards and taking out shot glasses and still talking way too fast for Louis to follow, but he kept laughing anyway.

          Suddenly there were hands on his waist and a broad chest against his back, ‘’Are you okay?’’ Harry murmured in his ear, his hair tickling Louis’ neck.

          And he was. He felt good – great even. He felt loose and content, so he nodded and looked up at Harry with a smile, getting a dimpled one in response. Harry leaned down and pecked him on the lips. Soft and chaste. Just like that, everything flew out of Louis’ head and the only thing that mattered was getting Harry’s lips back on his.

          Niall who? Tequila  _ who _ ??

          He turned around on Harry’s grip and went up on his toes, Harry meeting him halfway. One of Louis’ hands landed on Harry’s neck while the other threaded through his curls.

          Before they got very far, someone was loudly clearing their throat and yelling ‘’Oi! Stop being gross, we’re in a kitchen, for fucks sake! Besides, it’s tequila time, not ‘let’s suck each other’s faces off’’ time’’ Niall complained, but his smile was still firmly in place.

          Louis begrudgingly turned around to find Niall pouring three shots of the golden liquid.

          ‘’None of that salt and lime shit,’’ he said handing a glass to Louis and another one to Harry, ’’cheers,’’ he said before knocking back his drink and slamming the glass down on the counter with a hiss. Harry clinked their glasses and did the same, Louis following suit.

          From then on, the night was a blur of a few more shots with Niall, dancing – well, some would probably call it grinding – with Harry and meeting people whose name he couldn’t remember three seconds later, but they all uttered variations of ‘’You’re lucky, Harry’s a great lad,’’ which was often accompanied by a fond look and a pat on Harry’s shoulder, or a ‘’Take care of him, don’t break his heart,’’ yeah, like it was something he planned on doing. He might’ve said that at least once. He wasn’t sure, but he could remember Harry’s amused face.

          He woke up the next morning with a pounding headache, his bladder about to explode and some weight on his lower back. His surroundings were unfamiliar, but what really startled him was someone’s breathing behind him and the person’s boner on his hip.

          Slowly and moving as little as possible, he turned his head already dreading what he would find. What he did find was nothing unpleasant, though. Harry was lying there, mouth hanging open and curls all over the place. And that brought back the memories from the night before. Harry at his doorstep, going back to his place, meeting Liam, meeting Niall, tequila shots and then – blank.

          He groaned, already afraid of what he’d done or said last night. He did have quite the reputation of having no control while drunk.  _ Fuck. _

          He tried getting up, after all, dwelling on what had already happened would be of no use, but the weight on his back held him down. He twisted around as well as he could to find his naked back (what?) and Harry’s naked leg ( _ what _ ??) draped around his middle amidst a mess of sheets.

          Louis shimmied sideways and out of Harry’s grip, and the boy stirred, mumbling something, but didn’t wake up. Louis looked down to find that he was only wearing his boxers and, judging by Harry’s unclothed back, he wasn’t wearing much else.

          He looked around and grabbed the first shirt he could find. It was Harry’s and it was a tad too big on him. It fell around mid-thigh and he loved it. He found the door locked and, after a quick search – not quick enough, because he started seriously considering weeing out the window – he found the key on the desk.

          Louis opened the door to find Niall and Liam fast asleep in the hallway, Niall’s head on Liam’s shoulder and his head on top of the blonde boy’s. They were sitting on the floor just outside on Harry’s room, backs against the railing. As he stepped out, they bustled awake and Niall grinned.

          ‘’You owe me twenty, Payno,’’ he said happily as he got up, ‘’Good morning, Lou,’’ he added with a kiss on his cheek before he made his way into Harry’s room.

          ‘’Were you betting on me?’’ he asked incredulously to a blushing Liam. ‘’Forget it, I don’t want to know,’’ Louis shrugged and started to make his way downstairs looking for a toilet.

          ‘’It’s just over there,’’ he hears Liam behind him and turns to find him pointing to the door on the other side of the hallway but still not looking up. ‘’The loo, I mean. If that’s what you’re looking for, of course,’’ he mumbles and Louis has a hard time not laughing at the awkwardness of the boy.

          ‘’Yeah, thanks.’’

          When he comes back out, Liam is no longer sitting out there, but Niall is sprawled on Harry’s bed, his head pillowed on Harry’s shoulder, their legs already tangled.

          ‘’Hey, get out,’’ he demanded, nudging Niall, who didn’t even opened an eye, but crawled over Harry’s back to the other side of the bed and threw an arm over his waist before his snoring resumed.

          Harry cracked an eye open and turned sideways, holding his arms open. His face was sleep creased, his hair was an absolute mess, but his dimples were popping out and he looked adorable. There was no way for him to say no.

          So, with a sigh and a roll of his eyes, he lay down next to Harry, who immediately moulded his body into Louis’ smaller one, which Louis thought was funny. It was funny how well they fit together, and it was funny how comfortable he already felt. With Harry’s steady breathing surrounding him, Louis went back to sleep.

          He woke up later from the doorbell ringing. His head was on Harry’s chest and Niall’s hair was prickling his nose.

          ‘’Do you think it’s the cleaning people?’’ Harry croaked out.

          Niall mumbled something that sounded a lot like ‘’I hope so. Liam will get it,’’ and not two seconds after that, he was asleep again.

          ‘’Are you okay?’’ Harry asks, his hands coming up to Louis’ hair. He just nods and hums in appreciation, his brain not awake enough to form full sentences.

          ‘’Head’s okay?’’ he wants to say that it’s had better days, but his mouth doesn’t seem to want to move, so he just nods once more.

          ‘’Do you have anything important today?’’ 

          He thinks about it before shaking his head.

          ‘’Do you want to sleep a little more?’’

          Louis nods again, without hesitation this time.

          ‘’Okay,’’ Harry replies with a chuckle and a kiss to the top of his head. He lowers his hand to Louis’ side, but the boy makes a displeased noise and, with yet another little laugh, he goes back to carding his fingers through his feathery hair. Louis sighs contently as he shifts around trying to make himself a little more comfortable and goes straight back to sleep.

          When he wakes up again, for what feels like the hundredth time, Niall is nowhere to be seen and Harry is humming some soft, vaguely familiar tune, his chest vibrating lightly beneath Louis’ cheek and his hands still caressing Louis’ scalp and making it hard for him to fight back a smile. He looks up at Harry to find him with his eyes closed and a dimpled grin on his face and it makes his heart clench.

          ‘’You’ve got four nipples,’’ he mumbles, his voice still hoarse from sleep. 

          Harry laughs before replying, ‘’I do, yeah. Didn’t know how to bring it up on the first date when our sisters were with us, sorry,’’ Harry’s eyes remain closed as they both laugh, but he opens them and peers down at Louis as he asks, ‘’Still like me?’’

          ‘’Yeah, maybe even a bit more now,’’ he answers quietly, matching Harry’s grin with his own.

          Yeah, maybe they are moving too fast, he thinks. Maybe he is getting attached too fast but, as Harry leans down and presses a quick kiss to Louis’ lips, he thinks that maybe Harry is right there with him, and it doesn’t feel scary at all. It feels natural. He chastises himself for being cheesy and ridiculous, and he can try and deny it, but it feels like maybe they could be really good together.

\--

          Louis is halfway through a waffle eating contest with Niall and he’s already regretting even starting it. The button on his jeans already popped open and he thinks he’s never felt fuller, who the fuck had the idea, anyway? – when his mobile starts ringing on his pocket. He yells for time, waffles debris flying everywhere. He worries, just for a second, about Harry seeing him like this. Cheeks stretched as wide as they could go with food and yelling like he owns the place, but, as he checks on him, his dimples are on full display, so maybe he doesn’t need to worry.

          ‘’Liam, answer it,’’ he says as he throws his phone at the boy, who catches more in reflex than anything else. And then he just stares at the device like it was some alien technology for long enough that it stops ringing.

          ‘’Oh, for god’s sake! Who was it?’’ he asks before fitting – more like shoving – another piece of waffle on his mouth.

          ‘’Um, Zayn?’’ Liam more asks than answers.

          ‘’He’ll call again,’’ is what Louis means to say, but something unintelligible comes out instead.

          Not even a full minute later, the phone is ringing again and Liam looks just as lost as he did the first time, earning himself an impatient look as Louis gestures for him to pick up mumbling something impossible to understand again.

          ‘’Louis, you wanker! Where are you?’’ Zayn asks before Liam has the chance to say anything, ‘’I need to leave the house, where are you?’’  and Louis keeps looking expectantly up at Liam, waiting for him to say something as he keeps cramming more and more food down his throat, but Liam just looks utterly bewildered. Thankfully, Harry decides to take over.

          ‘’Zayn, hey! It’s Harry. Louis is home with me.’’ He says a bit too loudly as he makes his way closer to Liam and the phone.

          ‘’Um, okay. Is he there? I really need his help right now,’’ Zayn says after a moment of silence and that’s how Louis knows it’s something serious, his mate had made no comment on him being over at Harry’s. His furrowed brows probably tip Harry that something’s not quite right.

          ‘’Do you want to come over? We don’t live too far from yours,’’ Harry says, and he gives him the address. Louis can tell by Zayn’s voice afterwards how thankful he is.

          As soon as he hangs up, he looks at Harry with a waffle filled grin and tries to mouth ‘thank you’ but fails.

          ‘’You’re cute,’’ is all Harry says as he walks around to peck Louis on the cheek.

          ‘’You’re going down, Tommo,’’ Niall magically manages to say around a mouthful as he steals one of Louis’ waffles.

          Not ten minutes and an eating contest lost later, the bell rang. Harry, who had gone upstairs for some reason, comes in with a distressed looking Zayn at his heels.

          ‘’Is everything okay?’’ Louis asks as he hops off the stool and  _ god  _ he shouldn’t have eaten that much.

          ‘’Yeah, it’s just the-‘’ he stops speaking and his whole face changes to something Louis’ is quite used to by now. He’s found someone interesting.

          He looks over his shoulder to find Liam looking at Zayn with his eyes wide and cheeks flushed. When he looks at Harry, the boy is also looking at Zayn, eyebrows raised and an amused smile on his lips.

          ‘’So, it’s just the?’’ Louis prompts.

          ‘’Yeah, I’ll – um, explain everything later,’’ he pats Louis back,the movement making his stomach jostle painfully. He moves over to Liam and holds out his hand, ‘’Hello, I’m Zayn,’’ he says with the seductive smile Louis had helped him perfect all those years ago when his blushing, fifteen year old self had a massive crush on Zayn.

          ‘’Hi, I’m Liam,’’ the response comes spacey and the handshake doesn’t look too tight. Liam’s eyes are still wide as saucers and skimming over Zayn’s features, his leather jacket and painted-on skinny jeans. He looks good, Louis knows, but it’s like he is now immune to it. It’s still quite amusing to see how it affects other people though.

          ‘’He fancies Zayn,’’ Harry’s voice is suddenly whispering in his ear.

          ‘’And I’m Niall, nice to meet you too,’’ the blond boy suddenly chirps, trying to sound offended, but his smile betrays him. How in the hell is his stomach not bursting?

          Zayn shakes his hand over the counter and the smile he offers is completely different.

          ‘’It’s mutual,’’ Louis replies to Harry, not worrying to keep his voice down.

          Harry offers Zayn to make him some breakfast and the boy eagerly accepts, looking grateful.

          ‘’I had to leave the house in a hurry, didn’t have time to eat anything.’’ He explains, his eyes never leaving Liam who, in turn, is still blushing and is now looking down.

          ‘’What did you do to my house?’’ Louis asks, already dreading the answer.

          ‘’Nothing. I did nothing to  _ your auntie’s _ house,’’ he replies, barely sparing Louis a glance.

          And that’s when it hits Louis. It’s the boy he took home last night. He probably hadn’t left by the time Zayn woke up. Usually Louis is there to shoo them out of the house, they even have a plan set up. Zayn will come find Louis and tell him he need his help, that’s the code, but sometimes he’s already putting on a jacket and a look will tell Louis everything. Then, he’ll go out and get them coffee as Louis turns on the vacuum cleaner he doesn’t even know how to use properly and waits until the person wakes up and pads downstairs looking for Zayn.

          ‘’He had to go to work. He’s a nurse at the Charing Cross Hospital, you know? There was a massive accident in Holborn, lots of people hurt. He probably won’t be home until late.’’ He will lie and the person, usually looking quite upset, will leave. He feels bad about making up hurt people, but the rest is true. Zayn is a nurse and he does work at the Charing Cross Hospital, so no harm is really done, right? Right.

          ‘’The coast is clear,’’ he’ll text Zayn, and five minutes later, Zayn will come back with a steaming cup of coffee and a pastry for Louis.

          ‘’You’re the best,’’ he will say.

          ‘’You have to put the vacuum cleaner away,’’ Louis will reply.

          Then they’ll slump in the couch with their breakfast and without any unwanted visitors. It’s almost scripted and it’s never fails to amuse Louis.

          ‘’Do you even remember their name?’’ he asks sometimes.

          Zayn never does.

          So he just gives Zayn’s back a knowing look and mumble ‘’last night’s boy’’ to Harry who raises his eyebrows and nods in understanding.

          The really annoying thing is that Zayn looks good even doing mundane things. Like eating breakfast, it’s disconcerting, really. He’s trying to talk to Liam while the boy just looks down and mumbles answers, his cheeks flaming red. All that while eating the waffles Harry had made him and making Louis think he’s about to get sick with every bite his friend takes. He might never eat again.

          All through the mostly one sided  conversation, Louis caught Harry and Niall exchanging amused glances, eyebrows raised. He’d have to ask about that later.

          ‘’So, are you seeing anyone?’’ Zayn asked, staring at Liam seemingly unfazed. He never was one to beat around the bush, so Louis really shouldn’t be all that surprised.

          Liam snapped his head up to look at Zayn with wide eyes and his mouth hanging open, but he doesn’t offer an answer.

          ‘’He’s not, are you, Payno?’’ Niall replies for him after a moment of silence.

          Liam shakes his head, stunned.

          ‘’Excellent! We could maybe grab something to drink one of these days, what do you say?’’ Zayn goes on as if Liam himself had answered.

          Louis looks around to find Harry and Niall staring at Liam as expectantly as if they’d been the ones asking the question, while Liam just looked panicked.

          ‘’Well, boys, what do you say we go see if there’s  any footie on telly?’’ Louis asked as he gets up and nudges Niall.

          ‘’There’s not. Who would be playing on the first day of the year’’ Niall replied like it was obvious, eyes still locked on Liam.

          Louis looked at Harry and nodded in the general direction of the living room in hopes he would understand. He looked at Liam, who still looked panicked, and back at Louis but didn’t seem to follow.

          ‘’Yeah, let’s go see if there’s a film or something then?’’ he almost asked and Louis nodded encouragingly.

          ‘’No, but-‘’ Niall whined, he actually sounded pained by the thought of leaving and missing the show.

          ‘’Niall, let’s go!’’ Harry exclaimed, apparently catching up. He then made his way around the counter and tugged Niall’s shirt, all but dragging him out of the kitchen.

          ‘’Sorry about that, lads,’’ Louis offered with an embarrassed chuckle following Harry out. ‘’Carry on,’’ he finished as he closed the door.

          He turned around to find Niall already sitting on the couch, his arms and legs crossed with quite an angry look on his face. Not that it worked, even Louis knew it wouldn’t last for too long and he’d known the boy for all of ten hours, if that. Harry settled in the middle of the couch and Louis chose to sit beside him, stretching his legs across his lap, Harry’s hands instantly going to his ankles.

          They find an episode of Horrible Histories on and all of Niall’s anger seeps away. He was singing along to the ‘Stupid Deaths’ theme song when Zayn came through the door and all eyes suddenly turned his way, History soon forgotten. Liam didn’t follow, Louis noticed, but the pleased grin on his friend’s face showed that things had gone well. He sat down between Harry and Niall, seemingly oblivious of all the anticipation.  

          ‘’So?’’ Harry almost screamed as Niall cried, ‘’God, the tension in the room, I’m going to die’’

          ‘’What?’’ Zayn asked looking truly confused.

          ‘’What did he say, dumbass?’’ Louis asked exasperated.

          ‘’Oh, he said yes. I’ve got his number and we’re going to figure out a day that works for both of us,’’ he grinned, ‘’he’s leaving for the gym now, though,’’

          Niall and Harry cheered, clapping him on the back.

          ‘’Good for you, bro,’’ Niall said like they’d met ages ago.

          ‘’Yeah, Liam could really use someone good. Don’t fuck it up.’’ Harry said lightly, but Louis could feel the weight of those words.

          The attention went back to the TV for a minute before Niall was exclaiming ‘’What the fuck is it with you people and thinking people actually work on the first day of the year? Give them workers a rest, you cunts,’’ and as he noticed everyone’s confused stares, he yelled, ‘’the gym is fucking closed,’’ making them all laugh.

\--

          Louis went back to work on Wednesday and the first two weeks of the year were completely hectic. It felt like, over the holidays, every single customer had had a problem and Santa wasn’t nice enough to fix them. It really wasn’t Louis’ fault that they were shitty people all year and old Saint Nick didn’t want to answer their wishes. The man had better things to do, after all.

          The busy schedule left him with little to no time to do anything else besides go home and sleep until it was time to wake up and do it all over again. That meant no time to see Harry. They’d texted and Harry had called once, but it just wasn’t the same thing. Louis already missed Harry’s touches and deep voice. Missed his stupid curls and his stupid dimples. 

          He was having lunch on Friday when Harry sent him a text that made his heart clench.

**From Haryr the giant:**

_                 When am I going to see you again? :( _

          He didn’t even think twice. He was exhausted, yes, and all he wanted was to get home and sleep until it was Monday again,  _ yes _ , but his sleep could wait a little longer if it meant that he’d get to see Harry again.

**To Haryr the giant:**

_                 are you free tonight ? _

**From Haryr the giant:**

_                 Yeah, are you? _

**To Haryr the giant:**

_                 i leave work at 5 and then i’m finally free _

**From Haryr the giant:**

_                 I’ll pick you up at 7? _

**To Haryr the giant:**

_                 sounds good !  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I'm trying my best to update every tuesday, but I won't promise anything because I suck at following schedules. Thanks to everyone who left a comment on the last chapter or popped by my ask box and said something nice. It helps a lot. You can find me on [tumblr](http://tinylouistomlinson.tumblr.com/) xx


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He took one last deep breath, checked himself in the mirror beside the door – now he understood why Zayn insisted they put one there – and opened the door, only to find the most ridiculous scene in front of him.  
> Harry was there, hands full of bags, tongue sticking out and eyebrows furrowed in concentration. He had one foot on the ground, his other leg bent at the knee to support the weight of the bags while he bent forward trying to ring the doorbell with his elbow. When he saw Louis he froze.  
> "I wasn’t sure you’d heard that," he mumbled, lowering his foot.  
> Louis burst out laughing, his nerves quickly forgotten. He sat down on the bottom steps, clutching his stomach with one hand and somehow managing to motion for Harry to come in. He kicked the door closed and just stood in the hall, looking a little red at the cheeks.  
> "You have incredible balance," Louis stated once he got enough air on his lungs.  
> "Yeah, that’s the yoga doing its thing," Harry muttered back, hanging his head low. And a new wave of laughter hit Louis.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm shit at updating. Nothing new. I'm really excited about what's happening next so I'll try my best to update it next Wednesday!
> 
> As always, a massive thank you to [Vasi](http://vanillabeanniall.tumblr.com/) for all the help. Thanks to [Annie](http://pocketfuloflou.tumblr.com/%22) as well.

          Louis managed to leave work earlier than he’d expected to, so by the time it was 4pm he was getting off the bus. As soon as he got home, he made himself a nice cup of tea. It was snowing outside and the short walk from the bus stop already had him a bit chilly. He still had a couple of hours to spare before Harry would pick him up. Not knowing what to do, he called Zayn for no apparent reason, but he was busy and couldn’t chat for too long. He also called Lottie a few times and Stan once, but they didn't pick up their phones and his mum was probably busy with the babies. Having nothing left to do, he decided to do what he always did when he was feeling antsy. Tidying up the house. 

          He decided to start with the living room, but five minutes in and he found his long lost copy of The Hobbit and decided to have a look through it. Almost twenty minutes later it was dark outside and reading without his glasses was making his vision blurry and his head ache. When he looked around, he realised nothing had magically gone to their right place so, with a sigh, he got up and started the difficult task up again. 

          It was just past 5p.m. and he’d already cleaned up the living room, washed the dishes and had just started with his room. He was sorting through the pile of clothes he’d found underneath pieces of furniture, strewn all over the bed or just thrown and forgotten in the corner of the room. He’d found a dress that was either Lottie’s or Fizzy’s and a golden belt he was pretty sure was Zayn’s. He’d also found his Donny jumper he hadn’t worn since last winter and the amount of unmatched socks he found was absurd and the number of pants – not all of them his – was better unmentioned.

          He was halfway through putting them into piles – wash, put away and rubbish – when his mobile chimed somewhere downstairs. He tried to ignore it and keep going, but curiosity got the better of him. Besides, he’d done quite well so far and a break was more than deserved. It was probably just Lottie or his mum, so it wouldn’t take more than 10 minutes.

          Or so he thought. As soon as he saw who’d texted him, a smile broke through his face as he laid down on the couch.

**From Haryr the giant:**

_           It’s snowing _

          He considered getting up and checking, but he couldn’t be bothered to move. Stretching his foot out, twisting his body so he could reach it, he kicked the curtains aside just to see that it was indeed still snowing.

**To Haryr the giant:**

_           i can see that _

          He hit send and got up to fix himself another cup of tea. He was trying to put on a show for nobody and pretended he wasn’t giddy about texting Harry, so he made himself wait until the tea was done to check his phone again. If it wasn’t as strong as he usually took it, no one had to know.

**From Haryr the giant:**

_           It looks like it’ll still be snowing in an hour. _

          Oh.  _ Oh.  _ Louis’ stomach sunk. Was Harry having second thoughts? Did he regret asking Louis out and wanted to cancel it? Did he not want to go out? Louis really was getting in too deep, too fast.

**To Haryr the giant:**

_           do you want to cancel it ? _

          The few seconds it took for Harry to reply were pure agony.

**From Haryr the giant:**

_           No! I don’t, do you? _

          Louis was probably way too relieved to read that.

**To Haryr the giant:**

_           i don’t either  _

**From Haryr the giant:**

_           Good. I was just thinking that maybe we could change the plans for tonight? _

**To Haryr the giant:**

_           what do you have in mind? _

**From Haryr the giant:**

_           How do you feel about me cooking you dinner? _

          Louis’ stomach did not do somersaults at that. It definitely didn’t, but if Harry’s cooking was anything like his baking, Louis was in for a treat.

**To Haryr the giant:**

_           great ! my place or yours ? _

**From Haryr the giant:**

_           Can I come over? 2 roommates + girlfriend = not the ideal environment for a date _

          Okay, that definitely had his stomach doing somersaults. It’s not that Louis wasn't ready for a date, he was, or at least he really hoped he was, but that didn’t stop his cheeks from heating up and the corners of his mouth from quirking up.

          It's not like they hadn't been on dates before, anyway. It was just that every time they were on dates, it seemed like someone else was there too. At first their sisters and then Niall and Liam. He couldn't complain though, of course he couldn’t. He'd had a great time on both occasions, but he was craving some time for just him and Harry. 

**To Haryr the giant:**

_           whose girlfriend ? yours ? am i your mistress ? _

**From Haryr the giant:**

_           Theirs. I mean, his, they don’t share or anything. Not that I know of, anyway. Besides, I only have eyes for Barbra, but she doesn’t want me. _

          Oh. So was he second best? And he thought Harry liked him. Maybe he was just experimenting? Louis was  _ not  _ up for that. He was trying to come up with a witty reply when four new texts came in.

**From Haryr the giant:**

_           I was just kidding. Babs is the owner of the bakery I work at.  _

_           And she’s in her 60s _

_           She’s also a woman _

_           Sorry, made an arse out of myself, haven’t I? _

          Alright, Louis needed to stop worrying. Harry wouldn’t be talking to him if he didn’t want to, right? He needed to stop overthinking this and text the boy back before a           new text came in.

**To Haryr the giant:**

_           no, don’t worry about it. so my place ? _

**From Haryr the giant:**

_           Yeah. Does 8 work for you? _

_           Also what do you have on your fridge? Or should I just wing it? _

**To Haryr the giant:**

_           are you that good or are you just full of yourself ? let me check, one sec _

          With a grunt he got up from the couch and made his way to the kitchen. He opened his fridge and burst out laughing. There were some scattered beer bottles, two cartons of milk - one of which had probably been open for longer than it should've -, a piece of cheese and some butter. He opened the freezer compartment on top of the fridge and there was only a box of frozen burgers, a box of frozen pizza and his mum’s lasagne. He took a picture of it all and texted it to Harry with a "what gourmet meal can you come up with using all of these fresh ingredients?"

          He’d rinsed his used cup, threw away the milk and took out the trash before Harry replied.

**From Haryr the giant:**

_           Is that really all you have on your fridge? What have you been eating everyday? _

**To Haryr the giant:**

_           i’ve got frozen stuff . dont worry about it _

**From Haryr the giant:**

_           I’ll bring the food then. _

**To Haryr the giant:**

_           deal ! _

          And with that, he deemed his break over and made his way back to his pile of clothes. There wasn't lots to be done in the house, but he still needed to shower and he still hadn’t decided what he was going to wear yet.

          By the time everything was done - well, everything but Zayn's room, but he wasn't taking Harry there, so nothing to worry about, really - it was just past six and, knowing himself, he'd have just enough time to get ready.

          He went downstairs to double check the house and make some last minute – even though Harry wouldn’t be there at least an hour – changes. Everything seemed to be in its rightful place and he patted himself on the back for not leaving it all for the last minute.

          As he was making his way through the kitchen, something on the back door caught his eye. It was Matilda, his cat. He was pawing at the glass door and looking somewhat expectantly up at Louis as if asking him to let him in. He was a ginger cat with grey eyes. Absolutely beautiful. Officially he was Louis’, but he only came home when it suited him.

          The first time he disappeared, Louis freaked out. He’d spread "HAVE YOU SEEN THIS CAT?" posters all over the neighbourhood and had almost given up on finding him when he showed up, almost two weeks later. Some of the neighbourhood cats would sometimes get mysteriously pregnant and everyone would blame Louis and his wandering cat but, even when they gave birth to ginger kittens, he’d deny it. Since then, Louis took to always leaving the kitchen window open so that Matilda could come and go as he pleased, but he closed it when he went up to his mum’s and must’ve forgotten to open it again.

          "Hey, mate, had a good walk around?" he asked as he opened the door and, as soon as the cat had come in, closed it quickly against the cold gust of wind coming in.

          Matilda meowed and stopped in front of the cupboard where he knew Louis kept his food. With a roll of his eyes, he got the food and had just put the bowl down when he realised that Harry might not like cats, or he might even be allergic to them.

          "Matilda, mate, look… don’t you want to go for another walk and come back tomorrow maybe?" the cat looked up at him and then outside and meowed what Louis assumed was a no, but he already had something else on his mind. He looked outside only to realise it wasn’t snowing as much as they thought it would be. Maybe Harry would want to change back their plans and go somewhere else. Louis hoped he wouldn’t.

          He fed Matilda and washed his hands before he went back upstairs. He got his phone and saw that he had two missed texts. The first one was from Lottie, telling to call her if he needed to and wishing him good luck on his date. How she knew he was having a date was beyond him. The second one was from Zayn, telling him he was coming home that night and he was finally staying for longer the just the night.

**To Zayn:**

_           straight up to your room, yeah ? i’m having someone over tonight _

__ Zayn texted him a winky face that made Louis blush. He closed Zayn’s texts without replying and opened Harry’s.

_           it’s not snowing that much anymore _ he wrote and after a moment of hesitation, added a sad face. He didn’t want to seem too eager to have Harry over, but it was cold outside and if he had to opportunity to not leave his house, why would he waste it? Besides, he’d already tidied the whole house up he didn’t want it to be for naught.

**From Haryr the giant:**

_           Is it not? I haven’t checked in a while. _

**From Haryr the giant:**

_           Yeah, it’s not. Do you want to change back the plans and go out? _

          He bit his lip and considered lying but ended up not doing it.

**To Haryr the giant:**

_           not really, do you ? _

**From Haryr the giant:**

_           No. I’ll be there at 8. _

          He’d already put his phone down when he remembered what he needed it for in the first place.

**To Haryr the giant:**

_           just one more thing. how do you feel about cats? _

**From Haryr the giant:**

_           I feel great about cats. _

**To Haryr the giant:**

_           great ! see you later xx _

          He threw his mobile on his bed and looked around. It’d been a while since he’d had a date at his own place. A  long while if he was honest, but he wasn’t too nervous. Or maybe he was, but he wasn’t about to admit it.

\--

          By the time Harry arrived, Louis had made his bed – not for any particular reason – bathed Matilda, who was now mad at him and was hiding somewhere in the house, and showered. Oh, and done quite a bit of freaking out as well.

          As soon as he left the shower, he realised he had nothing to wear. Absolutely nothing. So obviously he’d called Lottie in utter despair ready to just cancel the whole thing and give up on his love life.

          "Just put on that greenish blue jumper you got for Christmas. The one with the white tie dye, you know? It looks good on you," She’d said.

          "Oh, the one  _ you _ got me for Christmas you mean?" he said amused, already looking for it on his closet.

          "Yeah, well, what can I say? I’ve great taste," She laughed.

          And so it was. He put on said jumper with black skinny jeans and his black vans. Even though they didn’t walk around wearing shoes indoors, he wasn’t going to ask Harry to take his off.

          At 8 on the dot, there was a weird knock on the door and his nerves spiked up again, heart beating madly. It wasn’t really a knock, it was more like a bang, but he figured that was it. He took one last deep breath, checked himself in the mirror beside the door – now he understood why Zayn insisted they put one there – and opened the door, only to find the most ridiculous scene in front of him.

          Harry was there, hands full of bags, tongue sticking out and eyebrows furrowed in concentration. He had one foot on the ground, his other leg bent at the knee to support the weight of the bags while he bent forward trying to ring the doorbell with his elbow. When he saw Louis he froze.

          "I wasn’t sure you’d heard that," he mumbled, lowering his foot.

          Louis burst out laughing, his nerves quickly forgotten. He sat down on the bottom steps, clutching his stomach with one hand and somehow managing to motion for Harry to come in. He kicked the door closed and just stood in the hall, looking a little red at the cheeks.

          "You have incredible balance," Louis stated once he got enough air on his lungs.

          "Yeah, that’s the yoga doing its thing," Harry muttered back, hanging his head low. And a new wave of laughter hit Louis.

          With a roll of his eyes, Harry set the bags down, unzipped his boots and took them off, setting them neatly beside the mess of Louis and Zayn’s shoes.

          "Thank god," moaned, kicking his own vans off, not caring where they landed "I can’t stand wearing shoes indoors."

          When he looked up at Harry, he was looking at him with a small smile on his face and the butterflies fluttered right back to Louis’ stomach.

          "Hi," he whispered, his voice suddenly not working as it should.

          "Hello," Harry answered and opened his arms, an expectant look on his face and it was just unfair. How was Louis supposed to resist that? Not that he was going to, nor did he want to, but what if Harry once asked him something completely mad? With that face? Louis would probably buy him a baby giraffe if Harry asked him to.

          He went in for a hug as he felt his cheeks heating up and  _ oh _ , he smelled so good. Louis knew it, Lottie still picked on him for talking about it so much. He was taller and somehow warm even though he’d been out in the cold not five minutes before, and Louis loved it. He’d hugged Harry before when they were in Manchester and it was cold and he was so warm then too, so why was he still pleasantly surprised?

          "Are you planning on opening a restaurant here?" he asked as he stepped back and looked down at all the bags on the floor. There were pots and pans and way too much food. "You even brought pans? C’mon, I have those," or at least he thought he did.

          "Well, I didn’t know, did I? Judging by your fridge I’ll be surprised if i find stove in there." He said cheekily.

          "Hey, watch it! I might just kick you out," he said with no real heat behind it, "and I’d keep everything," he added, gesturing at the bags.

          Harry gave a small chuckle and raised his hands in surrender.

          "C’mon, let’s take all this to the kitchen," Louis said, leaning down and picking a few bags up. He started down the hall and Harry followed close behind.

          "Wow," he heard Harry whisper and turned to the boy to see him looking around in awe, mouth hanging open and eyes wide as saucers. "It’s a lovely kitchen," he explained after noticing  Louis’ confused stare.

          And it was. Black countertops making an L from the kitchen door to a set of double ovens. There was even an island with a stove and enough space around it that one could comfortably eat, as well as another counter that spread from the back wall to the fridge, with white cupboards filling the space beneath it and covering the top half of the walls. Louis’ favourite part was the window just above the sink that faced the backyard. It was now covered in snow, the little patch of grass beneath the trampoline the only green spot, but during spring it was beautiful.

          "Yeah, ‘s also not mine, so…" he mumbled.

          "Oh?" Harry said cocking his head.

          "It’s my auntie’s house and, because I’m her favourite nephew, she rents it for cheap," He explained.

          "Oh, well, she has great taste," he said still looking around.

          "On nephews or kitchens?" he asked raising an eyebrow.

          "Both," Harry replied, his dimples showing, "So," he said with a clap of his hands "how do you feel about stir fry?"asked, turning to face Louis.

          That’s how they find themselves half an hour later; Louis sitting on the counter, swinging his legs around and drinking from a glass of wine, and Harry, his hair up in a bun, chopping foods from green apples to red peppers passing through onions and mushrooms, all the while asking Louis if he was allergic to this or whether he liked that and asking him to take that other ingredient from the fridge or turn the oven on for him. Louis even felt like he was somewhat helpful.

          "Do you mind doing all the actual cooking?" he asked, biting his lip as they were getting started. If Harry wanted his help, he’d probably end up fucking it all up. He didn’t even trust himself to properly boil water without the use of a kettle. "It’s just that I can’t really cook… like, at all." He continued with a nervous laugh.

          "No, I don’t mind. I do all the cooking back at home. The boys are hopeless," He answered with a fond smile.

          "They’re probably not as bad as I am, believe me." He said hopping on the counter.

          "I’m not so sure. Liam once managed to overcook pasta so bad it dissolved and got stuck to the bottom of the pan. He's trying to learn now, though. He's getting better," he told Louis with a disgusted shudder.

          "I once forgot one of those frozen pizzas in the oven for well over an hour. Needless to say, it burned. Like, completely. It was like charcoal when I took it out and the house smelled like smoke for over a week," he countered, "It was winter and we had to leave all the windows open. Zayn wanted to kill me,"

          "Niall once attempted to cook a romantic dinner for his girlfriend and after burning three pans – don’t ask me how he did it, even he doesn’t know how he managed to do that – he just took her to Nando’s. Good thing he’s charming and good for my pans that he is single now," he told Louis with a dimpled smile.

          "It’s the Irish thing,"he joked.

          "Yeah, probably," Harry agreed, now mixing brown sugar and cinnamon to the chopped green apples and Louis really hoped that was not going into the stir fry.

          "You know how milk boils and goes all bubbly and crazy like," and he made an exploding motion with his hands and a ‘pshhhhh’ noise.

          "Yep," Harry said, a smile already on his lips.

          "Well, I didn’t. So I was heating up milk for my sisters, yeah? And it boiled and spilled over everything and it started burning and I was ready to call the firefighters. Good thing mum was home and helped me," he stated.

          Harry was biting his lip as if trying not to laugh, but his dimples betrayed him.

          "Don’t you dare laugh, Curly!" Louis challenged him, eyes narrowed.

          "Did the milk going all pshhhh," he started mimicking Louis, "scare little Lou-Lou?" he finished.

          "Knob," Louis muttered with a roll of his eyes.

          And with that, Harry burst out laughing, earning himself a pack of scones to the head.

          Within ten minutes, Harry had put what Louis assumed was an apple crumble in the oven, put some rice to cook and was expertly mixing the veggies in what Louis learned was a wok.

          "Do you like prawns?" Harry asked, taking Louis’ attention away from everything that was going on in the pans. That was probably the most action that that kitchen had ever had since he moved in.

          "Yep," he answered, popping the p.

          "Can you get them from the fridge for me, please?" he requested, still focused on throwing all the ingredients up and catching them back in the pan. How the hell did he do that?

          Hopping off the counter, he opened the fridge and took a moment to look at it. It looked so full, it didn’t feel like his. He took out the prawns and handed them to Harry.

          "Thanks, love," he said as he dumped them in the pan.

          It probably didn’t mean anything and Harry probably didn’t even realise what he’d called Louis, but that didn’t stop him from walking back to his spot on the counter with a slight spring on his step and a smile on his face.

           "You take the glasses, I’ll take the plates," Harry said as soon as everything was ready.

          And so they moved to the dining room, adjoining to the living room. The back of the couch separated the two rooms, as well as a curtain they never really bothered to pull closed. There was a long table with chairs on one side and a long bench on the other. On the wall opposite from the table there was a keyboard that Louis rarely played and a doorless wardrobe filled with books and miscellaneous things, from pictures to small toys his sister had given him when he moved out.

          "So you’ll remember us," Phoebe had said holding out a little pink hippo, whilst Daisy held out a purple one.

          "As if I’d ever forget you girls," he’d replied, hugging them to his chest and hiding his tears behind their backs.

          It was kind of messy, but it was also home.

          Harry took the bench, while Louis sat on the chairs on the other side of the table. He’d just taken his first mouthful and was trying incredibly hard not to moan at the taste when Harry gave a high pitched yelp, jumping and knocking his knees against the tabletop, his hand darting quickly out to hold his glass upright.

          "What’s wrong?" Louis asked startled his mouth still half full.

           "You have a cat, don’t you? Please tell me you have a cat," he pleaded in a strained voice, one hand flat on the table, the other one still holding the cup. His back was flat against the wall, eyes round as saucers fixed on Louis as if he was trying not to look down.

          "Yeah, Matilda. Why?"and as a reply he got Matilda jumping on the bench besides Harry who exhaled loudly and dropped his head on his hands. A moment later he looked up, cheeks flushed and ran his hands through his hair.

          "Are you okay?" Louis asked, still worried.

          "Yeah," he said a little breathless, a sheepish smile on his face, "She just gave me a little scare, didn’t you, girl?" he said, turning to Matilda and making his voice silly.

          "Boy," Louis corrected automatically, already turning his attention back to his food.

          "Boy?" Harry inquired.

          "Yeah, Daisy and Phoebe – they’re my sisters, the twins – got him for me a couple of years ago and they thought he was a she, so they named him Matilda. Mum tried to tell them he was a boy, but they wouldn’t have it, so we stuck to Matilda." he shrugged, shoving another forkful of food in his mouth, manners forgotten.

          After he was finished with his second serving, Harry got up and Louis made to follow.

          "No no, you stay here. I’m just going to get the dessert." He explained.

          "Okay, don’t burn down my kitchen," Louis teased.

          "From what I heard, it’s safer with me than it is with you," he said with a cheeky smirk.

          Louis was right, it was an apple crumble, and it was  _ amazing _ . They hadn’t talked much during dinner because Louis was too focused on his plate, merely humming whenever Harry asked him something or making a short comment on how good the food was, but nothing more than that. During dessert, though, they took their time eating and paid more attention to talking.

          Harry was a slow talker. It didn’t take Louis too long to notice that, but it did make Louis stare at his lips. Those plush, bow-like, pink lips. So, so pink.

          "Are you wearing lipstick?" he blurted cutting Harry mid-sentence. "Not that I’d have a problem with that, but it’s just…"  _ they’re so pink _ he finished in his head.

          "No, I’m not," he replied easily, running his thumb along his lower lip, tongue quickly darting to wet it afterwards, "see?" he said turning his thumb to Louis and yeah, he could see it alright.

          Once they were finished, Harry insisted on washing the dishes even though Louis had a perfectly functional dishwasher. They talked a bit more over their dish washing and drying duties and found out they had common interests in their love for music as well as silly romcoms and Disney movies. If Harry was trying to impress Louis with the cooking and by saying all the right things, he was doing a pretty good job.

          "Do you want to watch a film?" Louis asked after they were done, feeling nervous again but not wanting Harry to leave.

          "I’m always up for a good film," Harry replied, his dimples popping out.

          And so they found themselves on Louis’ couch watching the first season of Orphan Black on Netflix because  _ honestly _ , how could Harry never have seen it? They watched the first episode and Harry really liked it, though he was moving relentlessly on the couch as if he couldn’t find a comfortable position. Halfway through the second episode Harry asked if it would be okay if he stretched his legs across Louis‘ lap,  _ as if _ Louis would have a problem with that. Sometime through the third episode, Louis had laid down on Harry’s chest and before the fourth, Harry had asked him for a kiss and it wasn’t until Netflix was rude enough to ask them if they were still watching that they settled down again, cheeks flushed and lips puffy.

          Louis didn’t know when or how, but they fell asleep. Harry underneath him, legs crammed up to fit on the couch and Louis’ head on the crook of his neck. Harry woke him by trying to get out from underneath him and Louis did something he would never admit to doing once he was fully awake. He asked him not to leave, grabby hands and all.

          "I’m not leaving, Lou. I just really need to go for a wee." Harry replied, standing up and ridiculously crossing his legs.

          "Underneath the stairs, beside the kitchen door," he mumbled.

          Harry followed his directions, and in almost no time at all he was back, nudging Louis so he would scooch over and even though there was a perfectly good bed upstairs, that’s where they fell asleep again.

          Sometime later, he heard noises coming from the hall on the other side of the wall and someone cussing. His hazy brain acknowledged that Zayn was home, but Harry’s rhythmic breathing was making it impossible for him to pay too much attention to it. A couple of minutes later, he heard the kitchen door creak open and raised his head to see Zayn standing there, a fork in his mouth and a plate in his hands, which he raised as if saluting Louis, but he couldn’t make himself return the gesture, so he just laid back down and fell asleep again.

          The next morning, he woke up alone on the couch and heard voices and the smell of breakfast coming from the kitchen. He sat up and, rubbing his eyes, fished his phone from his pocket, finding several missed messages from Lottie asking about the date and only one from Zayn.  _ Cute (:  _ it said, and attached to it was a picture of him sleeping on Harry’s chest. It would be cute if his mouth wasn’t hanging open wide and his hand wasn’t clutching Harry’s shirt like he was afraid he’d leave. 

          "Why do I still keep you around, Javaad?" he mumbled as he got up to find out what was going on in his kitchen.

          He walked into the kitchen to find Zayn sitting with his back to him on one of the high stools along the centre island while Harry- while Harry was flipping pancakes? He was sleepy, yeah, but the sight in front of him was undeniable and made his insides warm. Harry’s hair was up in a bun again, a loose curl falling down just behind his ear and Louis really, really wanted to tuck it back in the bun. But the best thing – though he’d never admit it – was the fact that Harry and Zayn were talking like they’d known each other for ages. He knew Harry was  a charmer, he’s fallen for it himself, but seeing Zayn laughing with Harry felt good. But also confusing. Zayn’s a nice person, but it’s not easy to get through his shell. 

          "What’s going on?" is the first thing to come out of his mouth. What _is_ going on ?

          "Well, good morning to you too, sleeping beauty," Zayn says with a smirk on his face as he turns to face him and Louis doesn’t like it. Doesn’t like it one bit.

          "Good morning," he says impatiently, "What’s going on?" he repeats.

          "Nothing, we’re just talking, aren’t we, Harry?" he asks making his smile extra sweet and directing it to the boy. But the thing is, Louis has known Zayn for over ten years now, and he knows when he’s up to something. The way he said Harry’s name doesn’t sit well with Louis.

          "we are," Harry nods happily. "Morning, Lou. I’m making pancakes!" he says with a bright smile, pointing to the pan with the spatula he’s holding.

          "I can see that," Louis replies, trying to sound excited, but the way Zayn is looking at him, smirk still firmly set on his face, is troubling him greatly.

          "Do not believe a word this fucker tells you," he warns Harry and smacks Zayn upside the head just for good measure as he makes his way out of the room.

          "Ouch! What was that for?" Zayn whines.

          "For any embarrassing story you might’ve already told him," he says from the doorway, narrowing his eyes at him.

          "But, boobear, I’d never do that to you," he replies with a fake sweet voice.

          Harry’s cackle is the last thing he hears before he closes the kitchen door.

          He. Is. Fucked.  

          That’s all he thinks as he walks up the stairs to put his phone to charge and use the loo. When he goes back to the kitchen – teeth brushed, face washed and bladder emptied – there’s a plate with a stack of pancakes with something purple and glistening on top waiting for him. Zayn already digging into his.

          "Is this jam?" he asks poking it with a fork.

          "That’s actually blackberry coulis," Harry supplies once he’s swallowed a bite of his own stack.

          "Don't come at me with your fancy cuisine gobbledygook."  Louis shoots back before turning to Zayn and asking, "Can you translate that for me, bro?"

          "I dunno either, but it’s good," he says around a mouthful, "I like the lad, you can keep him," he added, pointing his fork at Harry, who turns beet red and looks down to hide his pleased smile.

          "I think I might," Louis replies and takes his first bite and  _ fuck _ , this coulis – whatever it is – is really fucking good.

          He tries to ignore Harry’s wide eyes on him but fails.

          "What? You’re a good cook," he says with a shrug, "You might be a lousy telly watcher," he pauses feeling his cheeks heating up from last night’s memories, "but, you know…" he trailed off taking another bite from his pancakes to hide the smile threatening to overtake his face.

          "You were the one distracting me," Harry shoots right back, a toothy grin still planted on his face, clearly pleased. And if Louis finds Harry bouncing excitedly on his chair adorable, he’s not going to tell anyone.

          "That is way more than I needed to know," Zayn says, shoving another forkful of pancake into his mouth, "You guys are already gross," he mumbles. Louis feels a smile spreading on his lips and looks up to find that the same has happened to Harry.

\--

          Once they’re done, Zayn runs down to the nearest Londis to get a pack of cigarettes and Louis invites Harry for a tour of the yet unseen part of the house. Not that there is much to show; only his bedroom, a guest bedroom that is filled with everything they couldn’t find a proper place for, and Zayn’s bedroom, which was strictly out of bounds, except in emergencies. With Zayn’s imminent return, Louis finds himself leading Harry to his bedroom instead of the living room, looking for some privacy.

          They went to his room and Louis closed the door, backing up against it, once again feeling shy. Not many boys had gotten to see his room. Even Matt, the guy he’d dated for five months, had absolutely no idea what his room looked like. It was his safe haven and it held so much of who Louis was that he felt like that part of him should be kept a secret until he felt comfortable enough to share it with someone and so he didn’t let many people in there. Harry was different, though. Louis couldn’t quite pinpoint what made him think Harry was trustworthy. Maybe it was the wide, green, honest eyes, or maybe the way he listened to Louis like every single word he spoke was important, but something made him sure Harry wouldn’t judge him, even when he was looking around, hands clasped behind his back, a small smile on his face.

          Louis’ bedroom had light green walls, one of them covered in shelves full of books, quite a few of them classic plays he’d had to read for uni. Another one of his walls was filled with photos of his family and friends surrounding the window and Harry was intently looking at them.

          "You have a beautiful family," he said turning to face Louis. "Is Lottie alright?" he asked, still scanning the photos.

          "Yeah, she’s fine," he replied walking up to Harry and looking at the photos himself, "I told my mum, you know… About you, I mean," he didn’t dare look at Harry.

          "Oh?" was all he said and turned towards Louis, hands clasped behind his back.

          "Yeah, she wanted to know who we met in Manchester, so I told her about you," he peeked up at Harry to find him watching him with a huge smile on his face and his eyes bright, and if he was trying to hide his excitement, he was doing a piss poor job of it, "she’ll probably want to meet you soon," he finished more confidently.

          "I’d love to meet your mum, Lou," Harry whispered, bringing his hands up to cradle Louis face. He took a step closer until the tips of their socked feet were touching and  _ god,  _ was he tall.

          "I should probably head back home," he said with little conviction, his face just centimeters away from Louis’.

          "Yeah, you-" and his thoughts seemed to seep out through his ears, leaving nothing in his head, "You- um- yeah, your friends are probably wondering where you are," he managed to stutter out.

          "They probably are," Harry agreed bringing his face just a little closer to Louis’, not kissing him yet, and whatever part of Louis’ brain was still working short circuited.

          And then, just like that, they were kissing and Louis’ brain didn’t need to work anymore. It was gentle at first, only their lips and the tips of their toes touching. They were hesitant little kisses, tongues barely there. They kept it like that until Louis realised he was standing on the tips of his toes and planted his heels back on the ground.

          "Is this okay?" Harry asked, eyes searching Louis’.

          "Yeah," Louis breathed out.

          After that, Harry’s fingers were under his chin, lifting his head up, and their lips were touching once more. Harry was being gentle again and it’s not that Louis doesn’t like it, because he  _ does _ , but it’s not what he wants, so he swipes his tongue against Harry’s bottom lip before nipping at it, and apparently that was the right passcode.

          He feels as well as hears Harry’s loud exhale against his cheek seconds before their chests collide and he’s firmly pressed against the table, one of Harry’s hands making it’s way to his hair while the other tries to pull him closer by the hip. Suppressing a smile, he cocks his head for a better angle and opens his mouth, granting Harry access. He loses himself in Harry’s kisses for god knows how long, but definitely not long enough.

          Way too soon, the front door is banging shut and Zayn is yelling something Louis doesn’t understand – and honestly doesn’t care to – and Harry pulls back, his eyes more black than green and his lips – Louis notes with some satisfaction – more red than pink.

          "I really should go," Harry says in a hoarse voice, closing his eyes and leaning his forehead onto Louis’.

          Louis wants to argue, wants Harry to stay for longer, but that’s probably how it should end, right? With them wanting more. It was a good sign he decides. It meant that if Harry felt the same way, they would probably be seeing each other again. Hopefully soon.

          "Okay," he says and pecks Harry’s lips again. And again. And a couple of times more, just because. A few of them leading into deeper kisses that ended too soon. "You might need to take a step back so I can move and open the door, you know…" he adds once Harry’s still made no move to leave.

          After Harry takes a step back, Louis pockets his phone and grabs Harry’s hand, leading him to the door.

          "Do you think I should say goodbye to Zayn?" Harry asks as they were making their way downstairs.

          "Zayn! Harry’s leaving" he yells as a response.

          Not a minute later, the boy comes through the kitchen door.

          "Oh, bro, I thought you guys’d gone out," as he makes his way towards them. "You leaving already? It was nice to see  you again, mate. Thanks for the pancakes, yeah?" he tells Harry clapping him on the back, "And dinner last night as well," he adds as an afterthought.

          "Yeah, no problem. It was nice to see you too," he replied with a brilliant smile.

          "I’ll be seeing you around, yeah?" he adds after casting a sneaky glance at Louis and starts to make his way back to the living room, but stops halfway, "Oh, and, Lou? Your hair’s a bit messy," he teases, scrunching up his face and motioning to his own hair.

          Louis flips him off with one hand while the other smoothes down his hair. Zayn’s delighted laughter can be heard from behind the door.

          And so Harry leaves, but not before placing one last lingering kiss to Louis’ lips and promising to text him soon.

          As expected, he finds Zayn sprawled on the couch and flings himself on his lap, Zayn’s hand immediately going to his hair. He tries not to say anything before Zayn asks and tries to focus on whatever film is on at that moment, but his mind kept going back to little moments, and his mouth would quirk up or his cheeks would turn pink. He wants to talk, but he also know his friend and knows he’s holding back from asking just to torture Louis. Two can play this game.

          "Okaaaay, spill," Zayn drawls. Apparently he was too curious to hold it in for too long.

          He could say something. He could say a lot of somethings. From how cute Harry is, to how he listened to every single word Louis said and looked genuinely interested in the silliest aspects of his life. He could talk about how good Harry looked doing anything; from dishes to cooking to trying to pay attention to Tatiana Maslany. He could do that, but instead, he looks up at Zayn and lets the smile that’d been threatening to take over his face ever since Harry left break free.

          "Oh my god, is it that bad already?" he asks covering his face with his hands and throwing his head back, but Louis knew he was smiling too.

          Not ten minutes later his phone buzzed in his pocket. He was tempted to leave it there and just give in to sleep, Zayn’s hand on his hair and the low hum of the television making it hard for him to stay awake, but, as it buzzed for the second time, he shifted just enough to grab his phone out of his back pocket and, once he saw the text, knew it was worth it.

**From Haryr the giant:**

_           By the way, I’ve told my mum about you too. _

**From Haryr the giant:**

_           And she definitely wants to meet you xx  _

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you think! You can also find me on [tumblr](http://tinylouistomlinson.tumblr.com/)! xx

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you think! You can also find me on [tumblr](http://tinylouistomlinson.tumblr.com/)! xx


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